


Working Hard To See Tomorrow

by QuoteIntangible



Series: Working Hard to See Tomorrow [1]
Category: Free!
Genre: Alternate Universe - Stripper/Exotic Dancer, And I couldn't make any of the guys evil, Attempted Rape/Non-Con, Domestic Violence, Everyone Has a Terrible Past, Implied/Referenced Child Abuse, Implied/Referenced Underage Prostitution, Implied/Referenced Underage Rape/Non-con, M/M, Non-Graphic Rape/Non-Con, OMCs created because I needed bad guys, Of both the M/M and F/M kind, Seijuurou is OOC at first
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2015-02-15
Updated: 2015-04-28
Packaged: 2018-03-12 22:19:49
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 7
Words: 25,874
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3357341
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/QuoteIntangible/pseuds/QuoteIntangible
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>It was Aiichirou who got him the job at the Wet Dream Strip Club, but Seijuurou never expected to find a family among the eccentric group of people that worked there. But when the safety of his new family is threatened by Makoto's abusive boyfriend, co-owner of the strip club he now works for, just how far is Seijuurou willing to go to protect them?</p><p>In other words, the Stripper AU where everyone works together at the Wet Dream, and everyone has a terrible past and lots of baggage.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. A New Beginning

Seijuurou used to be confident back when he was a loud mouthed, hyperactive, the world is at my feet, kind of kid. But that was such a long time ago. He barely remembers being that person. Now he’s not really sure what he is at all.

He does know he’s practically a prostitute, no, not practically. He _is_ a prostitute, but he never asked for that. A stripper, yes, he did agree to that when Hachiro plucked him out of the homeless shelter for teens at 17 and told him he a had a job for him. Now three years later, he’s been pushed, bullied and threatened into being a prostitute as well for his boss. Just like he didn’t have a choice in anything his father did to him, he doesn't have a choice now either. 

At least it was a girl this time, and not some fat, old man sticking their wrinkly cock up his tight ass. It always hurt - not enough lube, too much force, too much inexperience - while they indulged their fantasies. The pain, Seijuurou thinks, is better than the women who paid for his services. He couldn’t get off on it when it hurt and only a rare male customer here and there bothered to jack him off or search for his prostrate, but with women, he had no choice but to feel good.

The woman straddles his hips as something painful twisted in his stomach like a rusty screw grinding into his organs. He doesn’t even bother to help - that’s not what this woman wants - just places his hands on her hips and watches as she rides him.

He is half hard, but nowhere near coming, when the woman groans, her sweaty forehead pressed into his shoulder. He feels sick when she places her wadded up undies in his hand, presses a kiss into his check, and saunters out of the room.

The underwear feels gross and disgusting in his hand like he was holding a turd, and he drops it in disgust, rubbing his hand aggressively on the towel provided for cleaning up after these little excursions. He puts his own underwear and pants on – Hachiro wouldn’t let him wear a shirt – and ran from the room. He presses his fevered forehead to the cool metal wall of the hallway, hiding his glistening eyes in the forearm pressed in the wall just above his head.

He has to be on stage soon. Hachiro would be mad if he is late, would fuck him until he bled if he doesn’t leave right now. But if he shows up looking like a teenager that was just dumped by their boyfriend, the fat bastard would be just as mad and still make Seijuurou pay. He just can’t win.

“Seijuurou?” a voice echoes down the empty hallway. He flinches, hiding his grimace in his arm, before plastering a smile on his lips and facing what he is sure to be one of Hachiro’s men coming to collect him.

He doesn’t recognize the person before him, though. Is he Hachiro’s latest acquisition from the shelter? Or maybe he is he one of Hachiro's brother's prostitutes? Something about the silver hair on the short  teen standing down the hallway tickles at his memory, like he’s met this person before… He stops that trip down memory lane  before it can begin. Seijuurou doesn’t like to think of the ‘before times.’ They are too painful to remember.

“Can I help you?”

“You don’t remember me, do you?” the teen offers a shy smile. “I used to be one of Momo’s friends.”

Oh, right, that sparks a memory deep within him. He does know this person, and he remembers a bowed silver head on a young kid, crying his eyes out onto Seijuurou's shoulder. He thinks he does a pretty good job at hiding the flinch at the mention of his brother. “Aiichirou, right?” 

“Right,” the teen perks up when Seijuurou says his name. “Do you work here?” he asks after a moment’s pause.

Seijuurou regards him closely. He admitted to knowing his brother, that means it is possible this kid knew his father as well, that…horrible person he doesn’t even like to think of. Is he a spy for his father? Is word of his activities going to reach the despicable man? He doesn’t think his father necessarily cares what Seijuurou did with his life, but maybe the man wants to track him down and drag him home, or worse, kill him for shaming the family. He had run away, after all, before his father could finish his ‘plans’ for him.

Aiichirou nervously chuckles. “I guess that’s pretty obvious,” he answers his own question when the silence stretched out between them for too long. “You know, I’m a stripper too, over at the Wet Dream. My friend wanted to come here, even though he’s a stripper too because something about picking up desperate chicks? I don’t know, it’s lame right, but it’s his birthday…” the teen trails off when he realized he was rambling. Anxiously, the silver haired teen starts playing with a lock hair. “Anyways, it’s pretty cool over there.  They pay a lot better than this place and the owner is really nice.” Aiichirou reaches into his jacket pocket, and Seijuurou steps back on instinct. People never reached into their pockets like that for good things.

Aiichirou notices the small unconscious movement, however, and holds up his hands in a placating manner, nothing but a business card held between his fingers. “I just wanted to give you this,” his voice is calm as if he is talking to a wounded animal, and with the way Seijuurou is reacting, he might as well be. “The Wet Dream is looking for a new stripper, you should come by and apply for the job.”

He holds the card out to him, and Seijuuoru takes it, not realizing until now just how bad his hands are shaking after that woman…He suppress the shudder that tries to wrack his large frame.

“It’s a lot better than this place,” he realizes Aiichirou is still talking to him and he missed most of what he just said.

“Why are you doing this?” he asks, not entirely sure this isn’t some complicated ploy set up by his evil father and that he’s not going to be kidnapped the second he shows up at this place.

Aiichirou’s smile is sad and his eyes are shining when he says, “I don’t know if you remember, I was the crying person in the alley at the festival and you tried to comfort me. You didn’t know what happened to me, then, but you knew enough to tell me I deserved better and that it wasn't my fault. And,” he says, looking at his feet that he’s started shuffling nervously, “You were the first person to ever tell me it was okay to be gay. And I believed you.”

That sounds a lot like something a confident Seijjuurou would say.

“So think about it, okay? I’ll tell Makoto you’re stopping by tomorrow to apply.” And the silver haired teen is gone, back down the metal hallway to his friends. He hears a loud, whiny “where have you been, Ai,”  before a hand snatches the reminder of his past from his sight. A fat, sweaty face twisted in rage appears in Aiichirou’s place as Hachiro stomps down the hallway towards him. Seijuurou tucks the card into his pants before his boss can see.

“You were supposed to go on 5 minutes ago. You’ve kept the customers waiting, bad boy,” Hachiro says, grabbing his arm in a bruising grip and marching him towards the stage.  “Just for that, your ass is mine tonight. And I’m not letting you go until _everyone_ is satisfied.”

Seijuurou cringes. That means not just Hachiro is going to use him tonight, but he’s going to let several of his men fuck him too as punishment for being late to his set. It’s only happened to him once before, but it wasn’t exactly a joy ride. He really wished he had the option just to say no. But he fears what would happen if he did. He’s seen Hachiro beat up some of the other strippers/prostitutes, a firm hand holding Seijuurou tightly in place and keeping him from intervening, the loud threat of ‘this’ll be if you cross me,’ hanging heavily in the air. He also knows sometimes people just disappear and he doesn’t know what  happened to them, but he’s assuming they’re lying in a shallow grave. 

It may hurt like a bitch getting through his routine tomorrow after what Hachiro plans to do to him, but there is no longer any doubt in Seijuurou’s mind on whether or not he is going to show up to the interview. He’s going to do everything he can to get that job, because he cannot live like this anymore.

*******

Seijuuro hesitates at the door of the Wet Dream Strip Club. From the outside, it doesn't look much like a strip club at all and looks much more like your average office building. The address on the business card matches where he was currently standing, so he swallows his nerves and marches into the building, still not sure he isn't about to be kidnapped.

There is no one in the front area where the cash registers are, so he assumes it's safe to open the door to the rest of the club. Wet Dream is much bigger than the place he works in, he notices, as he slips into the club. And maybe it's just because he's seeing it during the day, but this club is much brighter too. The stage is dead center upon walking in and there is a row of rooms with sliding doors off to his right, which he assumes are for lap jobs, private dances and…other things. The bar is to the left, an impressive display of liquors lined on the shelves behind it. All his club offered is two types of cheap whiskey, and cheap vodka by the gallon.

“Hello?” he calls out, taking a cautious step forward. Aiichirou had only told him to show up, he doesn’t know where to go from here. “Hello?” he calls out again when no one crosses his path and no answer came.

Someone with dark blue hair, glasses, and face buried in paperwork walks out of the tunnel behind the stage that he assumes leads to the locker room for the strippers. He startles when he sees Seijuurou standing there.

“Can I help you?” the guy asks as he pushes his glasses higher on his nose.

When he notices he is wringing his hands, Seijuurou clenches them into fists instead, before smoothing them across the wrinkles in his suit. It isn’t a suit at all, really, but an outfit for one of his routines at the Meat Locker, with pants that easily tore down the sides for easy removal. He hopes the guy in the glasses doesn’t notice that. “Um, Aiichirou told me to stop by today,” he tries desperately to keep his voice even, but the longer this guy stares at him, the less sure he is about being here. He contemplates turning around right now and running from the club.

The guy’s face lights up in recognition, soothing some of his fears. “Of course,” he says. “You must be Seijuurou.” He closes the distance between them and holds out the hand not clutching paperwork. “My name is Ryugazaki Rei. I’m the manager here. It’s nice to meet you.”

“Likewise,” he says, grasping the offered hand in a firm shake.

“We were wondering when you were going to show up,” Rei says, heading back into the tunnel and motioning for Seijuurou to follow him.

“Uh, yeah, sorry, Aiichirou didn’t tell me a time. I got here as soon as I could.” More like, as soon as he was able to move after the pounding his ass got last night. Hachiro had been far from gentle, and so had both of the guys his boss handed him over to after he was done. He’d been distraught to find blood dripping down his thighs and no amount of soaking in the communal bathtub had been able to alleviate the aches and pains that haunted him. A quick catnap before catching the train here, didn’t help either and he prays he can make it through his routine to impress the boss here enough to get hired.

The response seems adequate enough for Rei and he hopes the man doesn'’t hold it against him.

“Here we are,” Rei says, stopping in front of a door. The blue haired man knocks on the door twice before letting himself in.

The door opens to an office where a mop of brown hair is bent over a desk attached to a man scribbling furiously. Green eyes slide away from the desk  and settle on Seijuurou. The man, or more like the teen that couldn't be much younger than Seijuurou, looks confused for a second before his face settles into a soft smile. “You must be Seijuurou,” the green-eyed man says, standing to his feet and offering Seijuurou his hand. “Aiichirou has told us a lot about you.”

 “Only good things, I hope,” he says with false bravado, pouring on the charm he used to have at some point in his life.

“Don’t worry, I don’t think Ai could say something bad about anyone. I’m Tachibaba Makoto by the way.” He lets go of Seijuurou’s hand and returns to his seat, gesturing for Seijuurou to take the seat across from him.

“Nice to meet you, sir.” He resists the urge to look away from warm green eyes.

“So, you work for The Meat Locker?” Makoto plunges right in. “How long have you been there?”

He shouldn’t be so nervous over such a simple question, but he doesn’t want Makoto to get the wrong impression of him and the answer was…complicated. Does he lie and say only two years, or tell the truth and admit to working underage? He isn’t sure either made him look good and he really wants this job. But Makoto is still smiling at him gently in the kind of way he hasn't seen anyone do since he last saw his mother.

“Three years,” he finally says.

“Your resume says your 20?” Rei interjects and Seijuurou nods.

“That means you were illegally working for The Meat Locker at 17. Did your boss know you were underage?” Makoto asks. There was no smile on his face now, just a seriousness dragging his features down.

“Yes,” he says. Even if Seijuurou hadn’t told him, the guy pulled him out of a homeless shelter for teens. Kind of an obvious one there.

“Not surprised,” Makoto sighs, shaking his head. “I’ve heard nothing but terrible things about that place.”

“Isn’t that where we rescued Haruka from?” Rei asks.

“He was on his way there when Rin bumped into him.” The boss looks troubled, brows furrowed and lips pursed, before he shook away the look. The concern on Makoto's face has him feeling like he's on shaky ground. He isn’t sure where he stood with Makoto, or how to read him. He is used to leers, lust filled gazes, and rough hands grabbing him. He knows how to respond to those, how to use those in his favor, but he doesn’t know how to respond to whatever _this_ is. “I won’t ask you why you want to leave the Meat Locker,” Makoto says cutting through the panic starting to bubble in his gut. “Because that's kind of obvious. So why don’t you tell me a little about yourself.”

Seijuurou tries very hard not to shrink back into his chair. No one has cared about him in a very long time, long before Hachiro picked him up at the homeless shelter. He doesn't know how to answer a question he hasn't been asked in years. “I don’t know where to start,” he rather lamely says, trying not to cringe at his own uselessness.

Makoto doesn’t look upset at his horrible response, but that did not ease the anxiety starting to spread from his gut through his limbs. “How about just tell me your likes or dislikes, any hobbies, or aspirations?”

Is it okay to tell his hopefully new boss, that no, he doesn’t plan to be a stripper for the rest of his life and he is using all of his tip money to pay for classes at the local college? Hachiro would probably hit him if the man ever found out. But Makoto is looking at him so earnestly that he decides just to bite the bullet and go for it. For some reason, it seems liked Makoto might understand.

“I’m taking classes at the community college. I want to go to business school.”

“That’s great!” Makoto says and he looks genuinely happy for him. “We like our employees to have dreams.” Makoto contemplates something for a moment. “Why don’t we cut the interview short here and you can show us your routine.”

“Okay,” he sighs in relief. His routine is familiar territory, something he’s done over and over and over again and not this weird, awkward _caring_ from people who didn’t even know him. He is confident in his skills as a stripper and knows a few tricks on the pole that most other strippers can't pull off.

He grins at the two men in the room and follows them to the stage, confidence returning to his swagger as he climbs the platform and grabs the pole.

“Did you bring music?” Rei asks him. He hands the blue haired man the CD from his bag.

Ignoring the pain burning up his backside, Seijuuou waits until the music begins, the bass pounding through the speakers and his veins before he starts, swaying his hips to the music, his long limbs coordinated to the familiar beat. He lets each item of clothing drop to the floor piece by piece, enjoying when two sets of eyes widen as he tear his pants off, revealing sparkling red underwear that matched his hair, and tosses them to the boss. He uses the pole a lot in this routine, the horny business man dance as Hachiro called it, wrapping his legs around the pole and sliding down it, letting his hands caress it. He ends the routine in his signature move, one arm braced at an angle above his head, the other held straight just below his head to brace his weight as he kicks his legs in the air. It isn’t a move a lot of people can pull off.

When the music stops pounding in his veins, he comes to a rest next to the pole, leaning his shoulder on it, gauging the reactions from the two men in the room. He resists the urge to cover himself up, instead standing proudly in his speedo, arms crossed and a grin showing his pearly whites.

Rei stares at him in shock, mouth wide open, a dark blush across his nose as he splutters, unable to find words.  Makoto doesn’t seem to very fairing much better. Seijuurou isn’t confident about a lot of things these days, but he knew his body was the stuff of Gods, handcrafted into perfection.

“That was  beautiful,” Rei finally says.

“Yeah,” Makoto agrees.

“We don’t have anyone performing that is nearly as tall or muscular as him. We can reach out to a new demographic.”

“You’re right,” Makoto says to Rei. He walks to the stage, handing Seijuurou his pants which he hastily threw on. “You’ve got the job. On two conditions.”

  _Anything,_ he almost embarrassingly squeaks. _I will do anything to get away from The Meat Locker._ “Okay, awesome,” he says instead.

“One, we do not tolerate any drug use here. You will be required to do a drug test before you are officially hired and if at any time you give me reason to doubt your sobriety during the course of your employment, I have the right to administer another drug test. If you fail a drug test, or if you bring any sort of recreational drug into this establishment, you will be terminated on the spot.”

Seijuurou eagerly nodded, he hated drugs and what they did to people, hated that Hachiro kept trying to push them on him and other strippers at The Meat Locker. “That’s not a problem, I don’t want anything to do with drugs.”

“Good. Second, we strongly discourage having sex with any of the customers. What you do on your own time is your own business, but absolutely no sex with the customers on this property.”

Seijuurou’s shoulders slump in relief, a movement he hopes goes unnoticed by his new boss. “That’s uh, good.” _Really_ , _really_ _good_ , he thinks. “That won’t be a problem either,” he says when he realizes they're still waiting for him to speak further. He isn’t sure he can stomach the thought of sex at all with anyone right now, let alone with a customer.

“I believe you.” Makoto climbs on the stage, picking up Seijuurou’s shirt and handing it to him. “Welcome aboard," he says offering his hand. Seijuurou forgets to flinch as he shakes his hand.

“Thank you.”

Makoto beams at him, his smile sending a little jolt through Seijuurou. “Good, you can start tonight. Do you need to retrieve anything from the Meat Locker?”

Tonight? So soon? That's, that's....He takes a deep breath to calm himself. _Only everything I own is at the Meat Locker_ , he thinks. Hachiro does’t like his strippers/prostitutes to be far away in case a customer cones along, well at least that was the excuse, but Seijuurou is smart enough to know that being forced to live at the strip club is a method to control him and prevent him from ever leaving. _Thank God for Aiichirou._ All of his stuff is a lost cause, though. If he goes back to retrieve it, there's no way Hachiro won't notice, and the man would never let him leave. He doesn’t know what Hachiro would do exactly, but it certainly isn’t step foot outside unharmed and with all of his things. There's no need to tell Makoto this, though, so he simply says, “Yes,” knowing he isn’t going back for his things.

Except Makoto seems to understand what is going through his mind. “I’ll send people with you to help gather your belongings.”

People would not be enough, a whole army maybe, but not whoever Makoto has in mind. Hachiro, he is sure, is pretty connected in the underworld of the city and they couldn’t just walk into his territory and hope to come out unscathed. Before he can voice his concerns, though, Makoto is already calling to someone  Seijuurou just noticed was sitting at the bar and is now heading over. The first thing he notices about the guy was that he is tall, probably as tall as Seijuurou and it's not often he came across someone as big as him. The second thing he notices were bored teal eyes and a handsome face set in an a scowl.

“Seijuurou, this is Sousuke. He’s the head of security here. He’ll go with you. Why don't you finish getting dressed." It's clearly a dismissal and when Makoto turns to Sosuke and lowers his voice, Seijuurou thinks maybe he isn’t supposed to hear what his new boss says next. “Call officer Uozumi and Officer Nakagawa. Have them meet you there. Taking Haruka from them was easy,” Makoto adds when he sees the sour look flash across Sousuke’s face. “He wasn’t deep in the organization yet, but I have a feeling they’re going to put up a fight for Seijuurou. You are going to need the back up.”   

He feels terribly guilty about putting his new boss and colleagues in danger just mere minutes after meeting them, and he is about to back out, say this is all a mistake and return to the Hell that was The Meat Locker again, alone and not with anyone else that could be hurt. But then Makoto gives him that soft small smile that makes something in his chest feel warm and safe, something he hasn’t felt since he was 12 years old. Sousuke motions for him to follow and Seijuurou thinks, maybe, just maybe things will work out if he just gives it a chance.


	2. Family Is Something I Just Don't Understand

If there was one thing he learned about Sousuke on the train ride to The Meat Locker, it was that the other man didn’t talk much. In fact he hadn’t said a word at all to Seijuurou. He was unsure of how to start a conversation with the other guy, so he just let the silence stretch between them, glancing out the window, hoping Hachiro would just let him go without a scene and praying no one got hurt. It isn’t likely though, and the more he thinks about all the horrible things his old boss could, and would gladly do to him and Sousuke, when he finds out Seijuurou is jumping ship, the more anxious and fidgety he gets, wringing his hands in his shirt, and desperately trying to keep his breathing under control.

“It’ll be okay,” Sosuke says, startling him from his quickly spiraling thoughts. He wasn’t expecting him to talk at all and he jumped from his seat. They are sitting a little ways down the block from The Meat Locker, waiting for the two officers to show. All he could glean from Rei about the two officers before leaving to gather his stuff was that they occasionally moonlight at the Wet Dream Strip Club and are apparently trustworthy. Seijuurou doesn’t believe anyone can be trusted. “Makoto knows what he is doing.”

“I just feel bad,” Seijuurou says, purposely looking everywhere but Sousuke, “for dragging you guys into this.”

“Don’t,” is all Sosuke says, before he glides to his feet as two figures approach them.

“You must be the fresh meant,” one of the officers says. His partner elbows him in the ribs.

“Ignore him,” the second officer says. “I’m Officer Uozumi and this idiot is my partner Nakagawa. We’re glad you called, Sousuke. We’ve been looking to take down this guy for years."

Seijurrou is surprised and relieved to hear that. It eases a little bit of pressure from his shoulders  knowing his boss managed to get on the police radar and Seijuurou isn't the only reason they're here.

“We’ll be heroes.” Uozumi pumps his fist, only to be elbowed in the ribs again by his partner.

“You work for him?” When Seijuurou nods Nakagawa asks, “anything illegal going on in there?”

 _Take your pick,_ he thinks. From the drugs being dealt out of the club to the underage prostitution, there is plenty of dubious happenings going on in this place. He settles for a simple, “Yes." They'll see the second they are in the door. 

“Good,” Uozumi beams and lead the way in.

Seijuurou really wants to hide his entire six foot one frame behind Sousuke.. He just barely resists the urge. Instead he holds his ground as a red faced Hachiro stomps towards them.

“What is the meaning of this, Seijuurou?” Hachiro hisses, his voice dangerously low. He can’t repress the shiver that tears through him. Hachiro reaches a chubby fist for him and he flinches away from the hand.

“I’m uh, I—”

“He’s quitting. We’re here for his stuff,” Sousuke says.

The club falls silent. All eyes turn to them. A few of Hachiro’s men reach into their pockets for the guns Seijuurou knows are kept hidden in the folds of their clothes.

“Let him pass,” Hachiro smugly says, a grin twisting his fat, sweaty face. Seijuurou has a feeling they are going to be jumped on their way out.

He cautiously walks towards the back room, where the small bed he’s occupied for the last three years and the few possessions he accumulated are stored.

“Just him,” Hachiro insists, when Sousuke and the two officers make to follow. _That’s_ _it_ , he thinks, _they’re gonna stab me in the back room._

“We’re going with him,” Sousuke growls before either of the officers could. Seijuurou’s eyes feel a little misty. _Why_ , why are these people willing to risk getting the shit kicked out of them for a person they just met?

From the corner of his eyes, he sees  Nakagawa reach for his badge. Hachiro lets out a loud, grating laugh aborting the police officer’s motion. “Fine,” his boss says.

Now Seijuurou knows for sure all four of them are going to be jumped, beaten and stabbed in the back room. He slinks into his room, that is also the room of 7 other strippers/prostitutes, and it smells just like it did when he left this morning, like sex, blood, and vomit. He cheeks color as he makes a beeline for his bed and ignores the gasp and soft ‘holy shit’ from the officers.

Several of the younger kids peer at him curiously and it breaks his heart. He had taken the newbies under his wing. They look up to him and now he is just abandoning them. Hachiro better not take it out on them or…well there really isn’t anything he can do if Hachiro does. He is the biggest asshole on the planet for leaving these kids alone with a monster.

Seijuurou keeps his head down as he stuffs the few clothes he owns, his college textbooks and homework, and the few personal items into his gym bag. Sousuke is a quiet, solid presence at his back, eyes trained on the rest of the room and the door and it relaxes him just a little to know that no one is going to stab him in the back as long as the other man is there.

The officers are circling the room, looking at the dismal beds and the scared faces peeking at them. Nakagawa stops in front of Iwashimizu,  Hachiro’s recent acquisition and the youngest amongst them.

“Hey kid, how old are you?” Nakagawa asks, peering at the scared teen huddled on his bed. Seijuurou was just like him three years ago. 

Iwashimizu looks at Seijuurou, seeking permission, and he nods at the question in those eyes, telling the kid it's okay to answer. But it's just wishful thinking at that point.

“Sixteen,” Iwashimizu whispers.

“You work here?” A nod from the kid. “What do you do?”

Iwashimizu looks straight at him again. _Be honest,_ his nod says this time in hopes that maybe these officers can help these kids too.

“I um, I strip on the stage and,” his eyes seek out Seijuurou again, who smiles encouragingly at him, even though he knows what the answer means for him too, “sometimes Hachiro makes me sleep with the customers,” he mumbles.

Seijuurou flinches at the same time Iwashimizu does, when Nakagawa places a hand on the kid’s shoulder.  The kid isn’t just airing his own dirty laundry with that admission.  He doesn’t want to know what Sousuke thinks about the things he has done, so Seijuurou refuses to look at him. Then he won't have to know if he's disgusted.

“Call it in,” Nakagawa says to his partner. Uozumi looks grim as he calls in reinforcements from his precinct. 

They stay until the reinforcements arrive, then Sousuke helps him sneak out the back during the commotion, but he lets him linger outside long enough to watch Hachiro get led away in cuffs.

Souske says nothing when Seijuurou walks away from him and then buries his face in his arms, and for that he is grateful.

***

It is late-afternoon by the time they get back to his new place of employment.  Except for the quick catnap he took this morning, he’s been up for more than 24 hours and the exhaustion is finally starting to hit. He hopes to catch another quick catnap before going on stage tonight at his new job. After everything they’ve done for them, he wants to impress his new boss and colleague.

Sousuke takes him straight to Makoto’s office and he doesn’t have a chance to say anything before he is staring at beautiful green eyes again.

“How’d it go?” Makoto asks Souske, his eyes glancing worriedly at Seijuurou.

“Nakagawa and Uozumi arrested everyone there, the underage prostitution was a dead giveaway, so I don’t think we’re going to have any more problems with them.” Sousuke narrows his eyes as Makoto just nodds at him, no change in expression. “You planned this didn’t you?”

“I had my suspicions,” Makoto says, shooting another worried glance towards Seijuurou, “but no I didn’t plan anything.”

“Liar,” Souske teases as he clamps a hand down on Seijuurou’s shoulder. He hadn’t even realized he was swaying on his feet until the other man’s hand steadies him. The hand keeps pushing on his shoulder until he collapses on a conveniently placed couch.

Makoto looks amused at Souske’s antics. “What? His swaying was getting annoying.”

“Uh-huh.”

“Anyways, this one here is a liar,too,” Sousuke jerks his thumb at him.

“I didn’t—”

“He lived at the Meat Locker, so he’s pretty much homeless now.”

He wants to defend himself, but his brain felt like someone stuffed it full of wet cotton balls and was running too slow to keep up with the conversation. He doesn’t remember ever lying about where he lived, in fact it says on his resume that his address was the strip club.

“I was—”

“Planning on staying at the shelter?” Sousuke interrupts him again and glares down at him.

“The church, actually,” he mumbles and looks away from the intense stare in the teal eyes. The church often offered beds to the homeless and it is slightly safer than the shelter.

“He didn’t lie,” Makoto says, his ever present smile still on his face and his eyes still glinting with amusement. “Do you—”

“Oh no,” Sousuke cuts him off. “I am not taking in another stray. We still have the first one Rin bought home. You take him.”

“I can just go to the church,” he feebly interjects, but both occupants of the room ignore him like he isn’t even there as they continue to talk about him. They are determined to take care of him, and that's, that's....really weird.   

“Taheshi is still gone, and no one cares what he thinks anyways.” Despite Makoto saying his name admonishingly, Sousuke continues, “Haru won’t mind and you know you secretly love taking care of strays.”

“Alright, alright,” Makoto laughs. “Seijuurou do you want to stay with me until  you find a place of your own?”

The glare Sousuke is giving him says he is not allowed to say no. “Yes,” slips easily from his mouth and even he is surprised that he offered no further protests.

“Good,” Makoto says. “Why don’t you stay here and sleep on the couch until the club is closed. Then I’ll take you home with me.”

“But I can—”

“No,” is the immediate response from the other two men in the room.

“You look exhausted and you had a rough day. It’s okay to take a day off,” Makoto says.

Seijuurou is not up for arguing, so he immediately lies down on the couch. He hurts in places he shouldn’t and knows it would  be a struggle to get through another performance. The couch is soft and comfortable and welcoming and his eyes are already sliding shut without his permission.  “Thank you,” he whispers to these kind strangers who in just one day, changed his whole life.

Before he passes out completely, he grabs Sousuke’s wrist as the other man turns to leave. “Why?” he asks. _Why were you so nice to me? Why did you help me? Why were you so willing to protect me?_

For the first time, he sees the man smile. “Because Aiichirou is family and you were there for him once, when no one else was.”

Seijuurou doesn’t understand that. His own family hated him and were never, never this nice to him. “All I did was comfort him when he was down.”

“How many people walked by and ignored him? And how many people would have told him the things you did?”

His answer doesn’t bring Seijuurou any closer to understanding this family thing. It’s a lost cause. So he lets Sousuke go and lets himself fall asleep, feeling safe and comfortable for the first time in eight years.

 

 

 


	3. Learning the Pole

He woke up several hours later. It has nothing to do with the loud music vibrating through the walls. He just isn’t used to sleeping more than a couple of hours at a time and his mind and body are conditioned to being up this late at night. Habits aren’t easy to change.

He feels uneasy and can’t believe that he let his guard down that much in front of virtual strangers. He blames being overtired for his loose lips, but knows it isn’t that at all. These people…they are kind in a way he’ds never seen before, not even with his own family, except his brother, before things…changed. They make him feel comfortable and cared for and that was a dangerous path to tread.

At some point they are going to turn on him. They are going to use the information that he willingly handed over to them against him. If he allows himself to care about these people, their betrayal is only going to hurt even more.

No, he refuses to believe that. He is just being paranoid. Too much time being used and abused changed him. He can trust these people. Well, maybe.

His body is telling him to go back to sleep, but his mind won’t do it.  He isn’t sure if he’s allowed to leave this room and go check out the club, so he pulls out his textbooks and homework and gets to work, waiting for the other shoe to drop.  

Sometime later the music stops. The clock on the wall says 2 a.m. A few minutes later, the door opens with a barely audible _click._

“Oh, you’re awake,” a voice he recognizes as Makoto’s says.

On instinct, he shoves his textbook and homework into  his duffle bag, desperately trying to hide it before anyone can see. Slowly he realizes where he is. “I couldn’t sleep,” he says, not sure what to do with his guilty hands, so he just ends up hugging himself.

“Not used to sleeping now?” Makoto asks and how in the world does he do that? It’s like he read Seijuurou’s mind. “That’s okay, you’ll have plenty of time to sleep once we get to my place. Everyone wants to meet you before we leave, if that’s okay?”

“Yeah, that’s fine.” He throws his duffle bag over his shoulder and heads out.

The group here is a lot smaller than the group of employees at the Meat Locker, but he’s fairly certain this club isn’t involved in any illegal activities, so that might be why. There’s Ai and Sousuke of course, and a blonde kid about the same size as Ai, bouncing excitedly on his feet. The blonde kid is holding hands with Rei, the manager he met earlier. That makes him somewhat relieved knowing they won’t judge him for his own proclivities. There’s only one girl here with long red hair and wow, she’s really cute. But she kind of looks like the guy who’s grinning at him with shark teeth and he thinks maybe that’s not such a good idea. Especially since Sousuke has his arm around the guy with the shark teeth and he likes Sousuke and doesn’t want to piss him off. There’s a guy with pink hair waving at him, and then a black haired teen, with his arms crossed looking away from him, no staring at Makoto. Makoto’s boyfriend maybe? When he does briefly glance at Seijuurou, he gets a glimpse of the bluest eyes he’s ever seen, as blue as clear skies.

“You’ve met Sousuke, Rei, and of course you already know Ai." Ai gives him a shy smile and a small wave. "This is Hazuki Nagisa, Matsuoka Rin, Shigino Kisumi, Nanase Haru, and Matsuoka Gou.”

“It’s Kou.” The girl shakes her head and rolls her eyes at what is probably a very long argument.

“Everyone, this is Seijuurou uh.”

“Just Seijuurou.”

Makoto chuckles. “Okay, everyone this is just Seijuurou.”  

“Sei-chan,” the blonde kid, Nagisa, says, and takes the introduction as permission to invade his personal space. He bounces toward him, like Tigger from Winnie the Pooh, and hugs him, not lightly, but launches his lithe body at him. “Wow, you’re really tall. Even taller than Kisumi. I saw you strip earlier. You were really good. That’s my boyfriend, Rei. You look really familiar. Have I met you before?” He smiles down at the kid, bemused by his antics. He likes Nagisa’s exuberance, even if he did have a bit of verbal diarrhea.

“No, I don’t think we have.” Though Seijuurou has repressed his memories so much that he’s not sure he would know if he did.

A hand pushes Nagisa gently away towards Rei. “Don’t scare him off yet, Nagisa,” the guy with the shark teeth says, holding his hand up for Seijuurou to fist bump. “Nice to meet you.” Then he leans in and says in a softer voice as he points to Gou. “That’s my sister.”

Seijuurou gets it. He has no intention of stepping on anyone’s toes. And even if she is super cute, he’s not about to go after his new coworker’s sister when it’s clear Matsuoka would throw a fit.  

Kisumi hugs him too, and says he’s excited to have him on board. It’s weird being touched by so many people and not being hurt.  

Nanase doesn’t come over at all. With the way everyone responds to his lack of interaction, they expected that from him.

“Okay, you met him. You can talk to Seijuurou more tonight. Now everyone go home, go to bed, get a good night’s, well day’s rest, and I will see you tonight.”

There were few mumbles of ‘yes, mother’ and a chorus of goodbyes, until in their small groups, Rei and Nagisa, Gou, Sousuke, Rin, and Aiichirou, Haru, Makoto, and Seijuurou, they left together.

*

Makoto doesn’t live in an apartment like Seijuurou assumed, but in a house near the beach. It’s nothing extravagant, but it’s not that small either. Makoto is the owner of the club after all, at least he thinks Makoto owns the club judging by the fact that he’s the only one with an office and the one who hired Seijuurou, so he shouldn’t be surprised that Makoto apparently has a bit of money, but it just seems  a bit extravagant for someone as down to Earth as Makoto.

He feels differently once they’re inside the house, however. From the mismatched furniture in the living to the faint smell of fish in the air to the picture of Haru and Makoto as kids sitting on the table next to the couch, this house feels warm and welcoming and everything he’d come to associate with Makoto in one short day.

What is weird are the pictures hanging on the wall that have been turned around to hide them, and the picture frames  on the table and mantle that have been turned face down. Makoto seems to notice it the same time he does and he throws an exasperated look towards Haru.

“Again?” Makoto asks, to which Haru simply crosses his arms and looks away. Makoto makes no move to right the pictures, and Seijuurou wonders what they are hiding.

“You’ve known each other for a long time, huh?” he asks, picking up the picture of the two of them as kids. In the picture, Haru looks exactly as he does now just smaller, a slight frown pulling at the corners of his mouth, arms folded across his chest, blue eyes turned away from the camera staring intently at Makoto. For his part, the green eyed boy is pressed close to his friend, his hand clutched tightly in Haru’s shirt, a slight blush on his cheeks, eyes cast downward. There are faint bruises on Makoto’s arm and he doesn’t have to think very hard to know where those came from.

“Yeah, we grew up in foster care together, for what 8 years?” Makoto asks, but his head is down and he’s heading out of the room as he says it.

Haru says nothing; he just glares at Seijuurou until he gently puts the picture back in its place.  Seijuurou’s hit a sore topic, he can tell, so he doesn’t push it any further.

Makoto comes back with sheets, a blanket and a pillow and dumps them on the couch. “Is the couch okay? Haru sleeps in the guest room, but you could—”

“The couch is fine,” he says, because he’s not about to displace Makoto from his own bed after the guy gave him a job and saved him from forced prostitution. “I’ve slept in worse.” He once slept for a week under a bush in the park with only a little pile of leaves to keep him warm in the cool fall temperatures. He also slept behind a dumpster in an alley one night because he thought he was being chased and was terrified of being found by his father’s men. The worst, by far, was the night he spent in the whore room at the Meat Locker, where a customer had a kink for leaving his dick in Seijuurou’s ass.  So he left it there all night and decided to fuck him again in the morning. Except when the guy tried to pull it out, it stuck inside him. Rather than be gentle about it, he grabbed Seijuurou’s hips and pushed him forward at the same time the guy forced his hips back and it hurt, God it hurt so bad and he started to sob and knew he tore when he felt blood start to run down his legs. That didn’t stop the guy from getting his money’s worth from the whore he paid for. Compared to that, this couch might as well be a king size, tempur-pedic bed in a 5-star hotel, even if it doesn’t seem like it will quite accommodate his entire height.

“The bathroom is just down the hall by my room if you want to shower or bathe now or when you wake up. The kitchen’s just through there if you get hungry. Feel free to help yourself. The laundry is just off the kitchen if you want to put a load in. If you need anything else, it’s okay to wake me up."

“Thank you." He bows to the two men in the room. Makoto looks flustered and even Haru looks just a teensy bit surprised. Well, he’s not frowning as much, at least.

“I-It’s no problem.”

Haru and Makoto head to different rooms  and he thought he had these two figured out, but now he’s not so sure they _are_ boyfriends anymore and he’s not sure why he’s thinking about it either. It’s none of his business.

But then at 8 o’clock in the morning, just a little over 5 hours since they first arrived at Makoto’s house, he hears something echo down the hallway – a cry, or maybe a whimper – then Haru’s door opens. The teen slips out of his room and slides into Makoto’s, probably to wake his boss up from a nightmare. But he doesn’t come back out.

Seijuurou is wide awake. He can’t believe he actually slept more than 4 hours, but the clock on the wall across from him confirms the time. He feels oddly refreshed.

There’s no way he’s getting back to sleep now. He’s used to being up at this time, so he can sneak out to go to class. Today’s Saturday, though. He’s not really sure what to do with himself. If he’s not busy, Hachiro usually gave him some sort of job to do, one that usually involved sex.

Honestly, he can’t remember never not being busy. So he gets to work. He does his laundry, and all of the dirty laundry he finds in a hamper by the washer. He cleans the living room with supplies he finds in a closet, then grabs a quick shower, hoping he doesn’t wake anyone up because of how close the bathroom is to Makoto’s room. And when he can’t take it anymore, he decides to make breakfast.

There isn’t much else besides fish in the fridge, but that’s just fine. It’s better than what he usually gets for breakfast. He shudders at the thought and gets to cooking.

The food is nearly done when he hears someone approaching.

“No one broke into the house just to cook fish, Makoto,” a voice he’s never heard before says. He's assuming it belongs to Haru, as it sounds just like his face looks, indifferent.

“B-but,” Makoto starts, but never gets to finish as the two enter the kitchen. Makoto is attempting to hide behind Haru and he’s holding the back of Haru's shirt between his fingers.

“See, it’s just Seijuurou,” Nanase says and he sounds oddly reassuring. Then he casts a suspicious glance towards Seijuurou. “What are you doing?”

“Uh, cooking breakfast? For everyone.” He takes the fish from the pan and sets it on a plate on the table with the other food he’s already cooked. When nobody moves, he asks, “Did I do something wrong?”

Haru glares at him, and he thinks it might have something to do with scaring Makoto.  But it’s Makoto that says, “No, no, it’s fine.” He lets go of Haru’s shirt and sits at the table. “Wow, this looks really good. How long have you been up for?”

“Awhile.”

Makoto does that freaky thing, where he looks like he understands why Seijuurou has been up for so long. So he doesn’t ask. Instead he says, “You know, mackerel is Haru’s favorite,” and digs into the meal.

Later, it’s just him and Haru sitting in the living room in awkward silence as Makoto showers. He points to the backwards pictures on the wall and asks, “Why did you..?”

“Taheshi,” is all the information Haru is willing to supply and, “Thanks for doing my laundry.”

*

They get to the club an hour before it opens, with Haru staying behind to soak in the bathtub. Rin is waiting out front for them.

“Thanks for getting here early, Rin.  Will you show Seijuurou the ropes?”

“Aye, aye, Captain,” Rin salutes their boss, as Makoto disappears to the back with Rei who has just walked in.

“Makoto just wants me to tell you how things run around here since it’s probably a lot different from your last place. I know you already know how to work the pole,” Rin sayswith a wink, “Nagisa told me all about your performance yesterday. You’ll have to show me how to do that last move.”

Seijuurou freezes. At the Meat Locker, despite taking the younger kids under his wing, things were a bit competitive amongst the strippers. Those who had the best moves and attracted the most costumers got the best times and the most money. And those who couldn't attract customers were useless in the eyes of Hachiro who then made those strippers disappear.

Rin must have caught his deer in the headlights look. “Hey, it’s okay. You don’t have to show me if you don’t want to, but just so you know, we’re not very competitive around here, not like other places. Makoto and Rei switch the schedule around every day so that everyone gets a chance to strip during the prime money making times at least a couple times of weeks. Rei’s got it down to a science, though, what times work best for people. Like Nagisa and Ai attract a different kind of customer than we do, so they always do their set early in the night where they make the most money. Each of us usually performs several times a day, and there’s two group numbers that I’ll show you later.”

“Oh, that’s uh, different.”

“Yeah, Makoto and Rei, they’re the best, which is why Sousuke lets me work here.” Rin shakes his head and chuckles to himself. “Speaking of Sousuke, he guards the stage, he won’t let anything happen to you while you’re up there. If off the stage, and a customer gets a little frisky and won’t take no for an answer, try your best to get away from him and if that doesn’t work, get someone’s attention and either Sousuke or Makoto will kick them out.”

“Makoto will?”

“He takes our safety seriously. He’s so freaking nice all the time, though, that sometimes the customers don’t even mind being kicked out.”

“I can totally see that,” he says, thinking back on the little bit he knows about Makoto already.

“When it’s really busy on weekends, Makoto always has a second person acting as security. If neither of the police officers you met yesterday can make it, then he’ll do it himself. No one is allowed to touch you without your permission, okay?”

Seijuurou just nods. It’s still a concept he’s getting used to. Hachiro encouraged the customers to reach out and touch whenever they wanted to.

“If just one person books you for a lap dance, that usually takes place out on the floor.  But here parties can book one or more of us for private dances in those rooms over there,” Rin says, pointing to the rooms on the far side of the wall with the sliding doors that he first noticed upon arrival. “If anyone is booked by a party there is always security placed right outside. If the customers try anything, just yell for them.”

Well that’s kind of similar to the Meat Locker. Private parties could book you too, and if they tried anything without Hachiro’s permission, security usually stepped in. Until they paid extra, and then he was at mercy of the group. So, he guesses it’s not really similar at all. “Alright, got it,” he says, as he starts to see some of the other strippers filter in.

“If you need a little extra money one week, maybe rent is due and you don’t have enough, just ask around and someone’ll most likely be willing to switch their primetime with you. We care about each other here and we’re willing to help if you are.”

He doesn’t know what to say to that, so he just nods feeling a little choked up. When Rin sees the glistening in his eyes, he just smiles at him, and rests a hand on his shoulders, leading him down the tunnel past Makoto’s office for the first time ever. He stops at a door, just past the office.

“This is the costume room,” Rin says, pulling the door open. Inside there are two rows of costumes lining either wall, hung up neatly on hangers. There are cop and fireman uniforms, including the hats, a few of those cute, over the top dresses full of a lots of pink, frills, and bows, what looks like Spartan get up, plus a few nerdy librarian outfits, much like what he wore yesterday, but that’s just the tip of the iceberg of the costumes in this room. Rin leads him to the far left corner of the room. “Everything that’ll fit you is in this section. My sister washes everything after it’s worn, so you don’t have to worry about it smelling or anything like that.”

“Cool,” he says, looking over the costumes, not sure if he’s supposed to pick one or not.

Rin sees his dilemma, and says, “I think Rei and Makoto want you to stick with the same routine you did yesterday, so this,” he says pulling up a dress shirt and pants combo with a tie,” should work for you." He holds the outfit up to Seijuuour as if imagining what he would look like in it, and winks at him again, before handing the hanger to him and walking out the door. "Gou usually works part time at the front desk with her friend, checking IDs and cashiering, but she does supply runs for us too, like to go buy body glitter or oil, paid for by the company of course, and if Makoto is feeling generous, she’ll get us coffee and donuts.”

“That’s really sweet of her,” he says, trying to charm Rin into liking him, by complimenting his sister.

“She gets paid to do it, so it’s not that sweet," he says leading Seijuurou back to the tunnel and down to the locker rooms. He expected the locker rooms to look much like the one outside of the pool when he used to be on the swim team, rows of lockers with a few wooden benches here and there, and well, they didn’t really have one at the Meat Locker, so he’s kind of blown away by this one. There are of course lockers, lining the far left wall and the one across from him, with benches stretched across the ground in front of them, but there’s also a makeup station along the right wall, with large mirrors and swivel chairs attached to the floor in front and a long table that goes across the whole wall. There's a bunch of hair gel, oil, and glitter bottles haphazardly lined on the tables as well as a bunch of other cosmetics.  There’s also two couches in the room, and a fridge, not a min-fridge, but a full on fridge, plus a sink and a few cupboards and a table. There was a door tucked away in the corner, but he's not sure where it leads. 

He sees Nagisa straddling one of the benches talking to Aiichirou who is stuffing his bag into his locker. Sousuke has arrived too and is leaning against the lockers looking at them. “Welcome to The Pit,” Rin says, waving him inside. “Most of us bring our dinners and store it in the fridge. Just put your name on it so no one steals it. You can get take out on your break, but it’s not the best idea.”

“Break?” He can guess what it means by the word, but Hachiro never gave them a break, so he's not 100% sure about it.

Rin is looking at him funny. “Yeah,” he says slowly. “Most of us work 10 hours shifts 5, sometimes 6 days a week, so most of us take at least a half hour break to eat and maybe catch a quick nap, but you can take up to an hour if you need too.”

“Oh, okay,” he says, and now Sousuke is looking at him funny too.

“That door back there is the bathroom, but it also has showers so we can wash off all the glitter and shit before we leave.The club is closed on Tuesdays,” Rin says giving him a look that he doesn’t quite understand, “and you can chose to work either Monday or Wednesday depending on whether or not each day has enough staff, but you can work both if you want too. A lot of us chose to work both.  Haru usually bar tends, but if you need more time off, he will fill in on the stage for you.”

“I don’t think Haru wants to fill in for me.” Haru does not like him, that Seijuurou is sure of.

“He will, especially if Makoto asks him too. He may come off as very um…”

“Cold,” Sousuke provides when Rin doesn’t come up with anything.

“Yeah, cold, at first, but he’s a big ol’ softie on the inside, he’s just very protective of Makoto.” Seijuurou saw the picture at their home, he can guess why Haru is so protective. “Any questions?” Rin asks.

He’s kind of overwhelmed to be honest. Most of the amenities provided here were not something Hachiro would ever dream of giving his employees. He’s used to working sometimes 12 hour shifts with no break, no time to eat, and servicing customer after customer and he hasn’t had a day off in, well ever since he started working, so he’s not quite sure what to do with all of the things being offered to him now. But there is one question he is curious about, though he knows he shouldn’t be, and that’s the backwards pictures.

“Just one. Who is Taheshi?"

Rin’s face drops into a scowl and Seijuurou thinks the other red head might have actually growled.

“He’s an asshole,” Sousuke says.

“The biggest fucker on the planet,” Rin adds, still looking like he wants to murder someone, maybe Taheshi. “But he co-owns this place with Makoto, so he’s kind of our boss. He’s also Makoto’s boyfriend. Bbut everyone hates him, so don’t feel obligated to be nice to him if the fucker ever gets out of rehab.”

 “Oh, but I thought Haru was…” _his boyfriend,_ he finishes in his head, hoping he isn’t offending anyone.

“So did everybody else, dude,” Rin says, but he presses his lips tight when the teen in question enters the locker room. Haru doesn’t seem to have heard him, so Rin sighs in relief after snatching a quick glance at the blue-eyed teen.  

Haru walks straight up to them. Seijuurou resists the urge to wilt under Haru’s gaze. “Makoto wants me to the do the group routine tonight, so that you can have a couple days to learn it. He wants you to work at the bar while I’m busy. Rei will help you.”

“See, he’s warming up to you already,” Rin teases. Haru just glares at him as he walks away.

Rin claps him on the back again and leads him towards the lockers. “Pick anyone that’s not already taken. Rei will get you a lock if you want one, but we trust each other here. We’re family,” Rin says, and he sees Nagisa and Aiichirou nodding in his periphery. “Most of us don’t have family outside of this so we’re all each other’s got. As long as you don’t do anything to hurt anyone on purpose, you’ll be family too.”

“That’s uh, thanks,” he says, staring at his shoes. It’s been a long time since he’s had any family, and he likes the idea of this hodgepodge group of eccentric, but kind and caring, people filling the void. He wants to belong here. He wants to be part of this family and he’s so, so grateful to them for giving him the chance.

“Good, now let me start teaching you the first group routine.”  

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry, there's a lot of dialogue in this chapter and not a whole lot going on. It'll start to pick up more in the next chapter, I think.


	4. Nakedness is Next to Godliness

Nagisa liked to walk around naked. It was the first thing, among the many, many things, he learned about his new coworkers in just three short days of working at The Wet Dream. The blonde teen would strip his clothes off sometimes the second he got in the tunnel behind the stage and strut around in nothing but his birthday suit, unashamed and incredibly proud. As a result, the size of Nagisa’s dick, which everyone exclaimed was huge for such a short kid, was a hot topic of discussion. Especially since Nagisa liked to play this little game where he would try different poses like hanging from the shower head, or come up with complicated schemes like pretending he had a rash on his foot, to get people to look at his dick. As a result, Seijuurou has seen Nagisa’s dick more times than he would like.

But two can play that game. Seijuurou doesn’t like to think he is vain, but he’s the first to admit that he is incredibly hot. Even under Hachiro’s dictatorship, he kept his body in shape and exercised regularly. He doesn’t go around comparing his dick to other people’s, but he knows he’s well endowed, and he’s definitely okay with walking around bare assed in front of these people. So he strips naked in front of his locker and strolls to the locker room. He doesn’t need complicated schemes or poses to get Nagisa to look though, the guy full on stares, completely unabashed. Rei doesn’t seem to mind, so he guesses it’s okay. He’s drawing stares from the other’s too, and it’s Rin that says, “Dude, put that monster cock away.”

The nakedness is probably why Makoto doesn’t come into the locker room very often. When he does, he blushes at all the half naked men rubbing each other down in body oil and glitter. It’s adorable, but Makoto really is better suited to be on the floor. He’s a surprisingly terrific salesman and businessman and is constantly sending people over to him and the others for lap dances. Makoto is also the one that comes up with the special offers that draw people on slow days, does all the advertising on the website, helps people come up with new routines, and is always organizing theme nights with Rei. This club gets way more traffic than he ever saw at the Meat Locker and he’s given way more lap dances in just three short days than he did in 7 at the other place. Granted he’s not splitting his time between working the floor and getting fucked by customers anymore.

He’s starting to feel at home amongst the hodge podge group of eccentric people that work here. Everyone cares deeply about one another. When a costumer got a little too frisky with Aiichirou, it was Sousuke that reminded the guy of his place in as nice as a manner as Sousuke could manage, but everyone, except Rin who was on stage,  surrounded Aiichirou like elephants protecting one of their own from prey, until Makoto stepped in and took over from there.

They’re also not afraid to be themselves around one another. On Sunday, Rin was teasing Sousuke about Seijuurou’s not really sure what, but something that happened earlier in the day involving candy. Sousuke took it all in good nature, until Rin sat on the couch in the locker room. Then Sousuke pounced, sitting on Rin’s lap, pinning him in place with his weight and farting on the dude until he cried ‘Uncle’ and agreed to stop teasing him. Nobody paid them much attention, which led Seijuurou to believe this happened a lot.

They’re not afraid to tease one another, and they’re not afraid to be touchy feely either.  If he needs advice or someone to talk to about anything, he’s told by everyone (but Haru) that Makoto gives the best advice and is a great listener. But if he doesn’t feel comfortable talking to the boss, he can talk to any one of them.  Rin wasn’t lying when he said everyone here was like family. He’s incredibly grateful that they welcomed him with open arms.

“Goddamnit, Nagisa!” he hears Rin roar from the shower room as they’re getting ready to leave on Monday night.

Seijuurou just shakes his head as he pulls up his pants. Nagisa comes running out of the bathroom as naked as the day as he was born and sopping wet, giggling maniacally and just narrowly avoiding the shampoo bottle thrown at him.

“Nagisa,” Rei admonishes, but offers the teen a towel and accepts a kiss on the cheek.

Makoto chooses that moment to walk in, with Haru close behind. Makoto throws his hand over his eyes.  “Paychecks,” he squeaks and holds out a stack of envelopes.

Paychecks is one thing he does understand, but he’s not as eager about it as the other’s here seem to be, as Nagisa all but tackles Makoto for his. Hachiro only gave him a paycheck because it was mandated by law and the strip club needed to be a believable cover for the prostitution and drug dealing. The amount on the check each week was pitiful and hardly worth getting one at all, which he assumes will be the same here. But he’s already made double in tips what he made in a usual weekend at the Meat Locker –still flabbergasted that he doesn’t have to give a percentage to Makoto –and he’s okay with just that.

“This is just for Saturday and Sunday,” Makoto tells him as he hands over the envelope. “Today’s earnings will be on next week’s paycheck.”

He should have known better than to assume anything when it came to these people. Makoto is extremely generous, and he knows this, but he’s still surprised how much his paycheck is for. “There must be a mistake,” he says and Rei gives him a look that clearly says ‘I do not make mistakes.’ “I only worked two days, I couldn’t have possibly made this much.”

Makoto looks over it, and says, “No, that’s right.”

“But…how?”

“You get a standard hourly rate, plus a percentage of all the lap dances you did,” Makoto explains.

 _I get a percentage of those? Holy crap_.  Hachiro didn’t even give him a percentage of all the money customers paid to fuck him. This is…this is too much.

But Makoto isn’t giving him that small gentle smile, he seems sad and that look is directed straight towards him. He doesn’t look at the others to see if they are looking at him that way.

He feels someone touching his arm. It’s Rin looking around him at his paycheck. “Wait till you get booked by you first party. You will not believe how much that makes,” Rin says, breaking some of the tension.

“Speaking of which,” Makoto says, clearing his throat and the sad look away, “Seijuurou you were booked by a party this Friday. Kisumi and Rin, you’ve been booked together by a Bachelorette party on Saturday.”

“Sweet, desperate chicks!” Kisumi pumps his first in the air.

Rei levels the pink haired teen with a knowing glared. “I do _not,_ and I repeat, _do not_ want to catch you making out with a customer on company property ever again.”

“Yes, sir,” Kisumi says and throws an arm around Rei’s shoulders. “I’ll make sure to take them just past the parking lot.” Nagisa, for some reason, feels the need to tackle both of them in a naked hug.

“Eww, get your dick off of my leg,” Kisumi says in mock anger. “Rei, do something with your boyfriend.” Said boyfriend licked Kisumi’s cheek who grabbed Nagisa in a headlock and gave him a noogie.

“All right, all right, everyone,” Makoto said. “If anyone changes their mind and decides to not come in on Wednesday, please call me. Otherwise, I’ll see you all then. Have a good day off.”

“Like we’re not going to see each other tomorrow anyways,” he thinks he hears Rin grumble, but isn’t sure.

The train ride home with Makoto and Haru is a quiet affair. He’s scared to tell his new boss he has class tomorrow. It’s stupid to be afraid, but he just can’t help it.

“Tomorrow’s your chance to sleep in,” Makoto says with that gentle smile as he’s letting the three of them into his house. Seijuurou hasn’t slept past 8 a.m, even on the day they got back after 3 a.m. It’s not his fault, he just can’t help it, just like Makoto can’t help looking after people.

“I uh, I actually have class tomorrow at 9.” He can’t quite hold back his wince as the words leave his mouth, though he’s pretty sure nothing bad is going to happen.

“Oh yeah, where?”

“At ICC. I’m taking finance.”

“That’s awesome,” Makoto says in that way of his that seems like he’s genuinely happy for him. “Rei goes there too. I think he’s taking finance this semester as well.” He looks too Haru for confirmation, but he just shrugs. “Maybe you’ll run into him tomorrow.”

“Maybe.” If Rei is in the same class as him, Seijuurou wouldn’t be surprised they haven’t run into each other yet, despite the fact that classes started weeks ago. Because he had to sneak out of the Meat Locker, he showed up just as class was starting and sat in the back, and then left the second he could. It’ll be nice to show up early for once.

Makoto bids him goodnight, and he settles in on the comfortable couch, wondering when he’ll stop being so afraid of Makoto and everyone else, and falls asleep a second later.

*

Rei _is_ in his class. He sees the familiar blue hair sitting in the front row the second he shows up early for the first time ever. He’s always wanted to sit in the front row, so he plops next to Rei with a smile.  

“I didn’t know you were in this class,” Rei says, moving his book over so Seijuurou can put his notebook on the table.

“I usually sit in the back,” he says jerking his thumb to the nosebleed section of the stadium style seating.

“Ah,” he says, and knowing where Seijuurou came from, he probably doesn’t have to ask why. "This explains why Nagisa thought you looked familiar. He goes here too, and probably saw you around campus.

"That makes sense." He was rather tall compared to the average male and his bright red hair made him stand out. “Are you a business major?” he attempts to make small talk. He’s never been to class early before and hasn’t had to make small talk in…years.

“Accounting, actually. But I help Makoto with everything that has to do with money at the club, so I thought this would be useful.”

“Well, from what I’ve seen, it looks like you too are doing a really good job with the club.”

“Thanks,” Rei says and it’s the first time Seijuurou has ever seen him blush. “The club was Taheshi’s idea, but from day one Makoto ran it. I signed on because it’s what I want to do and I don’t want to get out of college with debt, you know?”

Seijuurou doesn’t _know_ but he nods along anyways.

“What about you? You’re not an accounting major, or I would have run into you before. Business major than?” When Seijuurou nods, he asks. “Planning on running your own company one day?”

In the second after the question is asked, Seijuurou’s notebook becomes very interesting to him and he can’t take his eyes off of it. “That or a CEO of a company. I just uh,” he steals a glance at the other guy. There is a very specific reason he wants to run a company and it's because he was told over and over again that he'd never be able to do it. He just wants to prove his father wrong and he's not doing a very good job of it thus far."I just need to prove myself."

“I can understand that.”

Before the awkward silence can settle over the two of them, their Professor walks in. Sitting in front for the first time ever, Seijuurou learns more than he ever has in just one class.

“Do you want to get lunch with me and Nagisa?” Rei asks after class is over. “We usually meet up after his class ends in an hour.

“I don’t want to intrude,” Seijuurou says as he stuffs his books into his bag.

“You’re not intruding on anything,” Rei insists. “Nagisa and I live together, work together, and spend all our free time together. It’ll be nice to have you along.”

“Okay, then. I have to deposit my paycheck first.”

“I’ll go with you then.”

“Cool, it’s not far.” It’s actually the college run credit union. They didn’t offer fees he couldn’t afford, and he had to have it because he didn’t think the college would accept a stack of single dollar bills as payment for his classes. It was literally right around the corner from class which made it quick to get to so he wouldn’t be gone from the Meat Locker for too long.

“I don’t mean to pry into your finances,” Rei says, as they’re waiting in line at his bank. “But have you ever thought of investing?”

“I’ve looked into a few options,” he says, and it is the truth, because that is what he has always planned for his future. “But I’ve never really had the time or the money until now. And I haven’t had much access to the internet either.”

Rei seems to perk up. “Nagisa is a computer science major here. He’s really good with computers. I’m sure he can hook you up with a laptop, if you want?”

“Really? That would be great.”

They fall into silence, but it's comfortable, welcoming, like something two friends would do. And as he stands in line and starts to think, Seijuurou realizes that for the first time he has a future. He’s always known he could have a future, and that’s why he continued to go to college, but under Hachiro’s thumb, it always seemed like a one in a million chance and that he’d more likely end up disappearing forever like some of the other prostitutes at the Meat Locker.

“Nagisa may look, and act like, a mischievous child, but he’s really smart,” Rei says with that faraway look in his eyes that says ‘I’m in love.’

“I can tell.” Rei looks at him like he doesn’t get that answer often, or ever. “Only someone intelligent could come up with all the ways he does to get people to look at his dick.”

“He likes to be the center of attention,” Rei agrees, but he looks kind of sad. “But I don’t mind, because I just like seeing him happy.”

“Hey, it’s okay. I understand.” Because Seijuurou knows more than anyone else what it’s like to be ignored, to be treated like you don’t exist. Some people did everything they could to get attention, even if it wasn’t the good kind. And others, like him, just tried to become invisible.

“I’m really into investing. It’s truly a beautiful art,” Rei says, guiding the conversation back on topic. “I invest the profits at the club too, and help some of the other employees look into 401Ks and other investments if you want any help. O&M is my favorite. I’m buying as many shares as possible.” Rei stops when he realizes Seijuurou is frozen to the spot. O&M? Oh, how he loathes that company and it’s not one he would ever dare invest his hard earned money in. “I’m rambling, I’m sorry.”

“No, it’s okay.” He starts walking again, pretending that he didn't just falter.  

“I get a little carried away sometimes. My mother...she died of cancer when I was younger. We didn’t have enough money for her treatments, so they stopped giving them. She died two weeks later,” he quietly admits.

“I’m sorry.” He places a comforting hand on Rei’s shoulders as the teen wipes at the tears in his eyes.

“It’s okay. It was a long time ago. I just don’t want to see anyone I care about faced with that kind of situation, to not have the money for something they really need.”

He gets it. He really does. Rei’s way of showing he cares about people is by helping them become financially secure. He doesn’t acknowledge yet that Rei wants to help him with his finances because he cares, not even in the safety of his own mind.

“We better hurry. Nagisa’s probably waiting for us.” Rei rushes away, but the smile he throws over his shoulder is grateful. Seijuurou feels like he’s just been initiated.

“Rei-chan!” Nagisa’s voice carries across the crowded courtyard. He sees the blonde boy waving in front of the small campus restaurant. “I got us seats outside. Ooh, you brought Sei-chan!”

Seijuurou suddenly found his arms full of as the exuberant teen hugged him.

“Are, are these seats okay?” Nagisa looked at Rei much like a dog begging for a treat would.

“Of course they are. They’re perfect for this beautiful day.” Rei kisses Nagisa on the nose who looks up at him shyly. Seijuurou turns away so they won’t see his huge smile at the endearing scene. "Seijuurou is in my class. That's probably why you think he looks so familiar."Rei says as they take their seats.

"Hmm, I don't think that's it," Nagisa says as a waiter comes over and takes their order. Seijuurou kind of wants everything on the menu, just to enjoy the experience of being able to afford eating at a restaurant again. Even if it is really more of a small campus cafe.

“Hey Nagisa,”he says, as Rei excuses himself from the table to take a phone call. Seijuurou makes a mental note that he’s probably going to need a cell phone now too. “Rei says you’re really good with computers. Do you think you could help me acquire one?”

“You want me to help?” Nagisa asks, his eyes shining like Seijuurou just offered him a store full of candy.

“Well, yeah. It’s your specialty, right?” He doesn’t have to ask why Nagisa is acting this way. Seijuurou has had plenty of people treat him like he’s stupid too.

Nagisa nods and then assaults him with rapid fire questions. “What kind of computer do you want?”

“Um…one that works?”

“Okay,” Nagisa chuckles at him, but he doesn’t mind. He really doesn’t know anything about computers. “What about operating system?”

 _What is an operating system?_ Instead of asking what he thinks, he says, “Whatever you think is best.”

“You don’t know what an operating system is, do you?” When Seijuurou shakes his head no, Nagisa says more to himself than to Seijuurou, “Linux is probably a bad idea then. Too complicated. How much memory do you need?”

“Um…I don’t know,” he completely gives up the pretense of knowing anything at all about what he wants.

“All right, good to know,” he says, but the wink he throws Seijuurou’s way says he’s only teasing. “Let’s try this, what do you want to use it for?”

“Internet, mostly. I want to start investing like you and Rei.”

“Anything else?”

“Maybe some sort of program to write on, like Word, and something like excel for equations.”

Nagisa’s pointer finger taps his check as he thinks. “You know what? I build you one from scratch.”

“You don’t have to go through all that trouble for me,” he says as Rei heads back to the table.

“Please, it’s no trouble. I _love_ doing it. I’ll even do it for free, except you could do me a…favor.”

“What kind of favor?” he asks, getting scared and nervous. He knows he’s overreacting, but he can’t help it.

“Don’t worry, it’s not like _that,”_ Nagisa reassures, and Seijuurou knows he’s talking about sexual favors, because that is immediately where Seijuurou’s mind went. “But I’m not telling you what it is yet.”

“Okay uh, thanks?” He offers Nagisa one of his grins that has become far too rare these days, despite the threat of owing a favor to the devious blonde.

“You building him a computer?” Rei says as he takes his seat. He doesn’t think Rei caught their conversation. He just probably knows his boyfriend that well.

“You know it, babe.” Nagisa kisses his cheek. These two are utterly adorable together. “Who was on the phone?”

“Makoto. Everyone is going swimming later. They want to know if we want to come.”

“Of course!” Nagisa says at the same thing Seijuurou nearly yells, “Swimming?” They’re both looking at him funny now, but Seijuurou hasn’t been this excited in a long time. Swimming is his favorite thing to do, and while he hasn’t had much time in years to go, he used to be quite good at it. In a different life, under different circumstance, swimming professionally would have been his dream. It’s just not possible now, so he doesn’t like to think about it anymore.

“Makoto has a spare swimsuit if you need it,” Rei says.

“I’ve got my own.” When he ran away from home, except for a few changes of clothes, he left almost everything behind. He didn’t want the painful reminders of the life he used to have. But his speedos were one thing he couldn’t leave behind, even if they did remind him every day that he would never make it to the Olympics.

“Sei-chan loves swimming too?”

“It’s my favorite thing to do.”

“Haru’s gonna love you, then. Being in the water is Haru’s most favorite thing too.”

Being in the water, per say, isn’t his favorite thing. It actually _is_ the swimming. But he doesn’t correct Nagisa, just looks forward to doing something fun for the first time in a long time.

*

He meets up with Makoto and Haru at the house so he can grab one of his speedos before they head to the pool. Haru strips the second the pool is in the sight and gets in just as quick. Seijuurou isn’t far behind him.

Seijuurou loses track of how many laps he does before he finally comes up for air. Haru is still swimming, but he stops long enough to look mildly impressed at Seijuurou for keeping up for so long.  

“A speedo, really?” Rin laughs as he blatantly stares at the tiny piece of fabric covering his privates.  The guy is wearing skintight, ankle length jammers, so he’s one to talk.

“It suits my swimming style,” he says, accepting the water bottle that Rin offers him.

“You swan competitively too, didn't you? Wow, this is like fate. Sousuke and I used to swim competitively back in the day,” he points his thumb at his boyfriend who is lounging on one of the pool chaises. Sousuke has gotten into the pool, but hasn’t done much swimming. As he settles in the chaise next to Sousuke to take a short break, he thinks he knows why. Without a shirt on, Seijuurou can see the huge jagged scar that covers Sousuke’s left shoulder. No one’s shoulder is left properly functioning after an injury like that. And now that he thinks about it, he hasn’t seen him move that arm much, even when he dragged someone out of the club once. There are other small circular scars that litter his arms and chest and long, thin white scars that wrap around his ribs and disappear onto his back. Cigarette burns and whips marks, he’s seen those before, but the shoulder scar is something new.

He doesn’t stare. Everyone’s got their secrets. Unless Sousuke wants to tell him, it’s none of his business.  

“My father was a drunken asshole,” Sousuke says. Seijuurou’s not even sure how the guy knows he’s there because he hasn’t opened his eyes yet.

“My father was an asshole too,” he says. Not a drunk, but maybe that would have been better. Then he could have pretended his father didn’t mean any of the things that he did to him. They don’t need to say more to each other on the subject, because that simple sentence encompasses their entire childhood. Everyone’s got scars. Some are just more visible than others.

Makoto pulls himself from the water and occupies the seat next to Seijuurou. He finds it hard not to stare this time as water drips from broad shoulders and down perfectly sculpted abs.

_Oh man, I am in so much trouble…_

“You’re pretty good swimmer. I’ve never seen anyone, but Rin, keep up with Haru.”

“Thanks. I used to swim a lot when I was younger.” He can’t help, but blush at Makoto. “So uh, how do guys get the pool all to yourselves?” He’s not sure where they are, or who the pool even belongs to, but he knows enough to know this isn’t their pool either. He slides his eyes away from open, honest green eyes, willing his blush to go away.

“Makoto gives the owner free lap dances,” Nagisa says, throwing his arm around Makoto’s waist.

“N-Nagisa!” Makoto stammers and it’s oh so adorable. The thought of Makoto giving a lap dance has his speedo feeling a little tight, but he's not sure why. He's seen most of the other guys naked and watched most of them give lap dances, but none of them made him feel this hot and bothered. It's not a new feeling for him, but he doesn't like to think about what it means either. 

“The owner’s daughter works part time at the club. She works up front with me collecting cover fees,” Gou explains, taking pity on him. “He lets us swim here because Makoto is such a gentleman.”

“That’s not –”

“Yes it is,”Rin cuts Makoto off. “I think he wants you to marry his daughter.” Everyone starts laughing at that, except Seijuuou because he doesn’t quite know them well enough yet to get the inside joke.

But he hopes one day he will. As he watches everyone tease each other, splash around in the pool with Aiichirou and Nagisa, listen to Rin and Sousuke trade dick jokes in an attempt to rile up Gou, who is totally unaffected, and later help an exasperated Makoto try and pull Haru from the pool as the sun starts to set, he couldn’t have asked for a better family to take him. Because he thinks he might be finally understanding what family means. 

And he doesn't want anything to ruin this new feeling, so he pulls Aiichirou aside just before they leave the pool. "Did you tell anyone where I came from?" he asks the teen.

"What do you mean? Do you mean the Meat Locker, cuz I think everybody already knows." 

"No, I mean, my family. Did you tell anyone who my father is?" This is harder than he thought it would be, but no one can find out who is. 

"I haven't told anyone," Ai says while looking down at his feet. It's an uncomfortable topic for him too. 

"Could you not tell anyone? If it makes you uncomfortable, I don't want you to lie if anyone asks you, but please don't tell them." He's aware he's pleading, but if certain people knew he was here, it could mean disaster not just for him, but for the club too. 

"I won't tell anyone, unless they ask," Aiichirou promises. 

"Thank you." In an uncharacteristic move he slaps Ai on the back, just a little too hard in his enthusiasm though. Ai just gives him this look, like 'really?' Seijuurou laughs, loud and uninhibited, throws his arm over the kids shoulder as they join the rest of the group for dinner at Makoto's.


	5. Mistakes Make Mountains Crumble

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> There is attempted non-con in this chapter. I'm putting it here because it wasn't part of the original tags. When I first outlined this story, this scene wasn't in it. I came up with it later. There are also mentions of PTSD.

No one rushes Haru. He goes at exactly the pace he wants to. The only time he ever moves quickly is when water is involved or he feels like Makoto is being threatened. The first happens far more often than the rest of the group is comfortable with, but the second doesn’t happen very often.

It’s obvious he has no regard for his job. He does it, efficiently so, but rather unenthusiastically, choosing to go as fast or slow as he pleased and clearly not caring if someone had to wait 15 minutes for one drink.  Rei usually helps him when things get busy, too busy for Haru to handle on his own. If not Rei, then Makoto jumps in to give a hand. But right now Haru is swamped and neither are in sight as they’re both dealing with Nagisa who is having some sort of melt-down in the locker room.

Seijuurou is watching the bar closely, not afraid to admit he’s worried about Haru. There’s one guy standing at the end of the bar, impatient and clearly angry as he tries to flag down Haru. He’s been standing there awhile and Seijuurou knows that’s never a good thing. He once saw a customer break a bottle of beer on the counter and then use the sharp pointy edges to stab the bartender for taking too long to fill his order. Hachiro thought it was hilarious. Seijuurou still remembers the puddle of blood and it makes him nauseas still. He doesn’t want that to happen to Haru. He likes the silent man. He may come off as a bit indifferent, but Seijuurou knows that it’s just a defense mechanism to protect his vulnerable core.

So he finishes up with his customer and makes a beeline for the bar, jumping behind the counter to help. He can fill the basic orders and whatever he doesn’t know he’ll leave to Haru. They work together surprisingly very well, like gears on a car, gliding around one another in the tight space without ever getting in the other’s way, filling orders quickly, until the crowd starts to peter out. When Makoto emerges from the tunnel, there’s just one guy left at the bar, but he’s been there quite a while perfectly content to creepily sip his drink on one of the stools. Seijuurou wonders if maybe the dude’s got a thing for Haru.

“I am so sorry,” Makoto says, taking Seijuurou’s place behind the counter. “Thank you for helping Haru. I’m sorry it took you away from the floor.”  Makoto looks relieved and weary and weighed down, but still has a smile for Seijuurou.

“Hey, don’t worry. It’s okay, I don’t mind helping Haru,” he says, trying to ease some of Makoto’s tension. He doesn’t want his boss to blame himself for something that couldn’t be helped. Makoto can be really hard on himself when things go wrong, even though it’s never his fault. “Is Nagisa okay?”

“Oh uh, yeah,” Makoto says. Seijuurou thinks that’s surprise that flits across Makoto’s face, but the look is gone before he can tell for sure. “He has this big project due on Friday and him and Rei got in a little bit of a fight this morning and he made it bigger than it really was in his mind because, well, you know Nagisa.” Yeah, he does, he’s the guy that feels the need to be the center of attention because he’s afraid of being abandoned. “I think the stress just overwhelmed him and once he started crying he couldn’t stop.”

He’s pretty sure they’ve all been there. “Well good thing he has you and Rei to be there for him.”  Behind Makoto, Haru gives him an approving nod. For his part, Makoto adorably blushes and looks down at his feet.

“I didn’t do much,” he mumbles. “Rei did most of the talking. I just sent the two of them home.”

Seijuurou knows that’s probably a huge under exaggeration, but he doesn’t push. “Well, that’s good. They could use the rest.”

“Everyone works so hard,” Makoto agrees. “I’m very grateful for it.”

“But no one works as hard as you.”

“I don’t know about that,” Makoto mumbles, blushing even harder than before. Haru rolls his eyes at Makoto’s predictable statement. Seijuurou suppresses the urge to laugh. Everybody knows what Makoto is really worth, except for Makoto himself. It's sad, and not something they talk about, but something that's so utterly obvious. “Anyways uh, Kisumi's running late today and wants to take Nagisa’s time slot tonight. If that’s okay with you.”

“That’s fine with me.”

“Good, because otherwise I would have made the two of you fight it out gladiator style,” Makoto laughs.

It’s good to see his boss laugh. His eyes crinkle, the frown lines on his forehead smooth out and his green eyes sparkle.  The small smile Haru hides in his shoulder says he feels the same.

“No you wouldn’t have,” Seijuurou fondly replies. “Anyways, it’s my turn on stage next.” He flees back to the floor before Makoto can respond, too embarrassed to find out whatever he was going to say.

He kills it on stage. Makoto and Rei helped him tweak his naughty businessman routine. There’s more interaction with the customers on the edge of the stage and he added another move on the pole that Rin taught him in exchange for teaching Rin his signature move. He makes more tips this way and with Rei’s help he’s already lined up a few investments. He’s waiting for the laptop from Nagisa before doing anything else. He hopes the laptop for him didn’t add to Nagisa’s stress this week.

He thinks maybe he should start looking for his own apartment too now that he has the money for it, but he kind of doesn’t want to. He likes living with Makoto and Haru. It’s…comfortable.

He’s stuffing his tips into the jacket he likes to wear after his set and considering taking a break when the Happy Hour bell rings. It’s far too late for Happy Hour, so Seijuurou knows what it really means: Makoto’s in trouble. Again.

Sometimes drunken customers mistake Makoto for one of the exotic dancers and try to coerce him into giving a private dance. Other times they _know_ he is not one of the strippers, but still try to get him to go out back for a quickie. Haru’s got a system for moment’s like, a system everyone made sure he was well aware of by his second day. Because they know, just like he knows now, that Makoto is not going to stand up for himself.

If a customer tries something with Makoto, that if they did to anyone else, it would get them thrown out in a heartbeat, Haru gives the signal. Sometimes is just an inclination of the head if he catches someone’s eyes, other times he rings the Happy Hour bell for no apparent reason other than to get someone’s attention. Whomever is not busy, goes over and diverts the customer’s attention away, usually with the promise of a lap dance. If everyone is busy, Rei comes over with the excuse that he needs Makoto in the back. Rei’s got a long list of excuses for why he would suddenly need Makoto, tucked away in a folder hidden from the boss. 

Seijuurou doesn’t know why Makoto would defend one of his employees from the same kind of treatment he just sits there and takes, but it probably has something to do with the bruises he saw marking his skin in the photo of him as a child.

He’s about to head over when he sees Kisumi swoop in. Despite being the only completely straight employee in the entire club, Kisumi’s got enough charisma to charm just about anyone. He trusts Kisumi to handle it, but when he sees the same guy that’s been sitting at the bar for far too long, gesturing wildly and gripping Makoto’s wrist as he leans over the bar towards him, his gut’s telling him this is gonna turn ugly.

Sousuke is guarding the stage right now and because it’s not usually that busy on Wednesday’s, there’s no extra security on. So he zips up his jacket, throws on his stage pants and heads over when it’s clear this man will simply not take no for an answer.

“Let go,” he hears Haru, tactful as always, hiss.

“Haru, why don’t you give him some water,” Makoto, polite as always, says.

“I don’t want water, I want you,” the guy slurs, leaning closer to Makoto who takes a step back, trying to pull his wrist free.

“Hey buddy, time to go,” Seijuurou growls, sliding behind the man and rising to his full height.

“Back off,” the guy says, nearly toppling over as he swirls around on his seat to face him.  “Oh,” the guy says when he sees him, because yeah, Seijuurou can be kind of intimidating when he needs to be. He easily towers over pretty much everyone he’s ever met and he’s got the muscles to back up his glare. Makoto and Kisumi may be almost as tall as he is, but Kisumi’s got pink hair and an overly friendly attitude, he’s not fooling anyone into thinking he’s tough. Makoto’s far too gentle to be intimidating.

“Let’s go,” Seijuurou repeats, and the guy thankfully doesn’t put up a fight as he follows him out the club.

“I’ll be back,” the guy insists as Seijuurou pushes him out the exit.

“No you won’t.” There’s a black list for this club, and this guy just found his way on it. There’s no way he’s ever stepping foot in here again.

“That was pretty impressive,” Kisumi says and thumps him on the back. “Cuz I’m tall too, but you were pretty scary there.”

“Just doing my job,” he mumbles. It’s not really, but no one corrects him.

“I’m sorry for causing trouble,” Makoto says, just like he does every time this happens. He’s staring at his feet, and judging by experience it’ll probably take all night before Makoto is willing to meet their eyes again.

“It’s not your fault,” Seijuurou says.

“Yeah, you can’t help that you’re so pretty,” Kisumi adds. It doesn’t quite get the laugh he’s hoping for, but Makoto does let Haru fuss over him the rest of the night. They’ll have to settle for that.

**

He finds himself in the one situation he didn’t think possible at a strip club: staring down into violet eyes of a terrified kid.

He’s at work kind of early, earlier than even Makoto and Rei. He went swimming with Haru again this morning. Ever since he jumped behind the counter to help Haru and then kicked the guy who was harassing Makoto out, Haru started inviting him swimming with him, which is pretty much every day. Sometimes Makoto joins, or one or more of the others, but Haru goes every single day and most of the time Seijuurou’s right there with him. He feels like he’s finally been welcomed into the family.

They spent hours in the pool this morning, longer than usual even for them. It’s nice to feel the burn in his muscles again from a tough workout. It’s liberating.

Haru had to come into work early to count inventory. It would have been a waste of time to go back home, so he went with Haru and decided to do his homework at the tables. That’s when the child found him. With the pink hair and violet eyes, the kid was undoubtedly related to Kisumi. His brother maybe?

The kid was staring up at him with wide eyes, then he opened his mouth and screamed. “Don’t touch me, stranger!”

Uh, what? He was nowhere near the kid! No one was actually going to think he was doing something inappropriate, were they? His mouth hung open, eyes wide, as the kid kept yelling at him.

Kisumi’s loud laugh, broke through the kid’s screaming. The child ran to Kisumi and hid behind his legs. “Don’t worry, Hayato. He’s not a stranger. He works here.”

“How come I’ve never seen him before,” the kid pouted.

“Cuz he’s new.” He patted the kid’s head and started leading the boy over. “Let’s go say hi. Hayato this is Seijuurou, Seijuurou this is my brother, Hayato.”

“It’s nice to meet you,” the kid grumbles but doesn’t move away from his hiding spot behind Kisumi.

“I didn’t touch him, I swear,” Seijuurou blurts out, still slightly shocked by what just happened.

“I know,” Kisumi chuckles. “We kind of live in a tough neighborhood. I taught him to say that to scare strangers away.”

“Oh, that’s uh, good.” He internally heaves a sigh of relief and winces at his extremely awkward reply, until Kisumi says, “Man you should have seen your face!” Then he’s tearing out pages of his notebook, wading them up and throwing them at a laughing Kisumi.

“See he’s harmless,” Kisumi says to his brother as he leads them away from Seijuurou’s barrage of paper projectiles and down the tunnel.

Seijuurou just shakes his head and gets back to his homework. He doesn’t ask Haru why Hayato is here. It’s not of his business.

Everyone else starts trickling in slowly. Seijuurou only has one problem left on his homework and the club doesn’t open for another 15 minutes, so he stays at the tables. If he finishes this one problem, it’ll free up his weekend mornings to go swimming. Haru wants to take him to the ocean on Sunday. Seijuurou’s rather looking forward to it.

“On your best behavior tonight, Nagisa,” Makoto warns. “Hayato is here.”

“Yeah, he doesn’t need to be traumatized for life by your naked white ass,” Rin says.

“But I brought candy!” Nagisa says, grabbing a fist full of chocolate bars out of his bag. Nagisa looks much better than he has this last week. Now that he’s handed in his project and realized a fight with Rei doesn’t mean the end of the world, he’s back to his usual self.

“Candy won’t make up for the mental scaring from seeing you naked,” Sousuke says.

“Oh all right,” Nagisa says and looks rather dejected until Rei puts an arm around his waist. “I won’t walk around the tunnel naked. But I make no promises about the locker room.”

“Fair enough,” Makoto says, staggering backwards a second later as he struggles to accept Nagisa’s overenthusiastic hug.

“Here,” Nagisa exclaims, handing their boss a bag. “These are for you, because we know how much you like chocolate.”

Makoto blushes as he peers into the bag. “You didn’t have to.”

“I wanted to,”Nagisa says as he hooks an arm with Rei’s and drags him to the locker room before Makoto can protest.

“Sousuke, can I need to talk to you alone for a second.”

“Ooh, someone’s in trouble with teacher,” Rin teases, going for the ass grab on his boyfriend before following Nagisa and Rei down the tunnel, leaving Sousuke and Makoto alone. It’s obvious a second later that they don’t know Seijuurou is there too.

“I need you to keep an eye on Seijuurou tonight,” Makoto says, his voice low and just barely carrying over to him.

Sousuke’s arms fall to his sides, his hands balling into fists. “Did something happen?”

“Not yet, but Seijuurou was booked by a party tonight.” Sousuke raises one of his eyebrows. Being booked by a party is a common occurrence and nothing to fret over, but the teen remains silent and waits for Makoto to continue. “The customer asked for him by name, which isn’t so unusual, but then he said it was because he saw Seijuurou’s picture on the website and thought he looked really hot.”

Seijuurou’s ink blots on the paper as he presses too hard with his pen. What Makoto just said is impossible. There are no pictures of any of them on the website, one thing he made absolutely sure of when he found out about its existence. Whoever booked him couldn’t have possibly known what he looked like. Unless…

“You’re thinking he was one of Seijuurou’s customers at the Meat Locker.”

“It makes the most sense. It’s hard to know what kind of customer they were,” Makoto says causing Seijuurou to flinch at the words and sink down in his chair. “And I haven’t asked him yet if he even wants to accept. I’m hesitant to even let him do it. I know you like to stick close to Rin, but I really need you to watch over Seijuurou. Not just while he’s in the room with the party, but the whole night. I have both officers coming in tonight, so nothing will happen to Rin, or anyone else, okay?”

“You think they’ll try something?” Sousuke asks. S

“I think it pays to be safe,” Makoto says, brows furrowed in worry.

“Don’t worry, boss,” Sousuke put a reassuring hand on Makoto’s shoulder. “I’ll keep a close eye on him.”

“Thank you,” Makoto sighs. “I’m going to go ask him what he wants to do, and then I’ll let you know.”   

Seijuurou slides from his chair and hides under the table. God, could the Earth just swallow him whole right now? He never even considered that some of his old customers might follow him here. Could he even handle seeing one of the men or women he slept with during his time at the Meat Locker again?

“Are you okay?” Makoto asks as he peers under the table. Seijuurou jumps, hitting his head with a dull thump. The table rattles, his textbook falling to the floor, but he can’t stop staring at Makoto. He suppresses any embarrassing exclamations as Makoto crawls under the table with him.

“How much did you hear?” he asks.

“Um…” He flushes as Makoto’s arm brushes against his and tears his eyes away.

“I’m guessing that means all of it,” he sighs. Makoto bumps his shoulder against his, prompting Seijuurou to meet his eyes. “I’m sorry, but I meant what I said. You don’t have to do this. One of the other guys can take over. They won’t mind.”

He knows no one would mind taking over for him, that’s not the problem. His doesn’t want his past to control him, he doesn’t want what happened to him to dictate how his life went. And he’s not a baby. He can handle this. He can’t let himself freak out just because he sees a customer from his other job. It’s bound to happen again, there’s only some many people and so many strip clubs in this town.

“I can do this,” he insists.

“Okay,” Makoto concedes. "If you're sure. Sousuke will be right there if you need anything.”

Seijuurou nods, comforted by the fact that his friends will be watching out for him. And maybe he won’t even recognize the person, maybe it’s not someone he slept with.

It is. As he’s walking into the private room, he notices the guy right away. Jet black hair slicked back much like his own, dark brown eyes the color of mud, and a cocky sneer on his twisted face. He’s a few inches shorter than Seijuurou, but that doesn’t stop the cold, hard dread from freezing the blood in his veins.

He knows this guy well, he was a regular. If Seijuurou remembers correctly, and he always does, this guy liked it rough. He tells Sousuke to keep the door partially open. Just in case. He knows he should just back out now. No one would think less of him, but he just can’t.

After it’s all said and done, he needs a moment alone. He asks Kisumi to take his set, because he just cannot go on stage right now. Nobody tried anything, and Sousuke regularly checked in on him, but he can’t shake the way his skin crawled as the guy’s eyes raked over him, nor the unpleasant memories associated with his presence.

There are footsteps following him down the tunnel. He’s about to tell Sousuke that he’s fine, he just needs a few moments, there’s no need to worry, when he’s shoved roughly against the wall. There’s a moment of panic where he thinks, _what am I supposed to do,_ before a hand slips under his speedo. Two spit slicked fingers are forced into him and _oh fuck_ he forgot how much that hurt.

“You’ve been asking for it,” the man hisses in his ear. With his height and his muscle, Seijuurou could push this man away, but he sees someone tall standing at the entrance of the tunnel. The name _Hachiro_ starts pounding across his skull. Hachiro wouldn’t like it if he fought back, would make him pay for it. Seijuurou’s supposed to stay here and take it, no matter how the customer wants it. That’s what Hachiro says and the man always gets what he wants. “You’ve been teasing me all night.”

 A third finger forces its way in. He’s not prepared for it, not relaxed enough, and there’s not enough lube. The fingers shove in farther. He stands on his toes, trying to escape the pressure, but a hand clamps down on his shoulder, pushing him down. It _hurts,_ like thorns piercing his skin. He’s not used to this anymore. Red flags start flashing in his mind. This isn’t right. This isn’t supposed to happen. This is…“Stop,” he cries, turning his head away from the man in front of him as tears start running down his cheeks.

The man at the end of the hallway walks towards him. He’s in trouble now. Hachiro is going hold him down, hurt him, remind him of his place. The guy in front of him is gone and this is it. Hachiro’s going to hit him or fuck him. “Seijuurou,” someone calls his name. A hand reaches for his face. He flinches away.

The blow never lands. He pulls his jacket closed, trying to hide as much of himself as he can. But then his legs give out on him and he sinks to the ground. He buries his head in his knees, though it’s a bit awkward because of his height, and fights the tears trying to free themselves from his eyes.

There are voices around him, but none of them beat the haze of panic that’s wrapped around him like a boa constrictor. What is Hachiro waiting for? Is he planning something worse than usual? He doesn’t think he can take worse.

“Back up, give him space,” a familiar voice finally breaks through. “Someone go get Makoto. Everyone else, go back to work.”

_Makoto…_

_That’s right…_

This isn’t the Meat Locker. That wasn’t Hachiro.

_Who was it?_

The crowd that briefly gathered around him is gone. He feels a presence next to him and chances a peak. It’s Haru. He’s sitting on the floor too now –close enough to let Seijuurou know he’s there, but far enough away so they’re not touching –and he’s staring at him in worry.

“He’s gone,” Haru says.

If that’s supposed to make Seijuurou feel better it doesn’t. He buries his back into his knees. A hand settles on his back. He flinches, but lets the hand stay.

“Are you okay?”

Seijuurou valiantly struggles against it, but he can’t stop the tears this time. Moments later there’s a second hand on his shoulder. “Take a deep breath, Seijuurou,” Makoto commands. It isn’t until he breathes in deeply, holds it for a second, and exhales, that he realizes just how close to hyperventilating he was. “That’s it,” Makoto encourages. He wonders how many times Makoto has done this. “Do you think you can walk to my office?”

He nods, and with the help of Makoto, stands on shaky feet. He’s glad to see everyone else went back to work and it’s just the three of them in the hallway.

“Why don’t you go get him a glass of water?” Makoto asks Haru as they settle him onto the couch in Makoto’s office. Haru says nothing in response, but he does leave.

Seijuurou’s expecting a handful of questions from Makoto, high on the list being ‘what happened’ and low on the list, but still possible, ‘what’s wrong with you?’

Instead Makoto asks, “Are you okay?”

Answering yes would be a big fat lie, and he respects Makoto too much to lie to him. He settles for a simple, “No.”

He’s surprised when Makoto sits next to him. “Do you wanna talk about it?”

Makoto shouldn’t be so kind to him. He fucked up, he fucked up bad. He lost his boss potential business, he didn’t push the guy away when he should have, he freaked out in the hallway. This…this is bad. “I’m sorry. I’m so sorry.” He pitches forward, only to be caught in Makoto’s arms. The hug is warm, welcoming and soothing, so he doesn’t fight it.

“It’s not your fault.”

“It is my fault. That guy, he was one of my regulars back at the Meat Locker. I should have said something.”

“You didn’t know what would happen,” Makoto says, tightening his hold around Seijuurou,“and that doesn’t  give him the right to hurt you like that.”

“I’m sorry,” he repeats, feeling his breath hitch. “I should have pushed him away, but I thought… I thought Hachiro was there and I was terrified.” _What is wrong with me?_

He’s shivering uncontrollably, and not even Makoto’s warmth can make it go away. A hand is rubbing across his lower back and he melts into the touch. “Seijuurou, do you know what PTSD is?” 

He knows enough to know that’s what soldiers get when they come back from war, but not much else. “Yes.”

“I think you had a flashback.”

“Me, I don’t think…” But that’s exactly what he just had, didn’t he? One minute he’s standing in the hallway at the Wet Dream and then a second later he’s cowering under Hachiro’s regime. Is this going to happen all the time, whenever someone touched him down there, every time he ran into an old customer? Would it get worse? Would it ever, would _he_ ever get better?

“Deep breaths, Seijuurou,” Makoto reminds him. The panic recedes a little quicker this time. He wonders if he’ll always need this too.

He pulls away from Makoto when he realizes, in utter horror, that he was probably making his boss uncomfortable by clinging to him like a baby chimpanzee does to its mother. Makoto doesn’t look upset, but Hachiro always fucked him with a smile too.

A glass is being pressed into his hands. Haru is looking intently at him. “I,” Haru sighs and then hesitates. “I was raped once too.” That is the last thing Seijuurou expected Haru to say, but it gets his attention. He risks lifting his head to watch him. Haru doesn’t look away. He wants Seijuurou to understand. “It gets better,” he says, as if he knew exactly what Seijuurou was thinking. “With time. It doesn’t go away, but it does get better.”

He nods because he doesn’t know what else to do. It makes him feel both a little bit better knowing he wasn’t alone, and worse knowing Haru had to go through something like this too. No one deserved this. No one.

“Do you want to press charges? The officers are holding him.”

“I…I don’t think I can.” There would be a formal police inquiry. He would have to give his statement, answer questions he didn’t want to answer, go to trial if the case didn’t settle before then. He doesn’t think this particular John is the type to take a plea deal. The trial might end up in the paper, his father might find out, and Seijuurou cannot let that happen. He wants the guy to pay for what he did to him, but he just can’t. “No, no, I can’t.”

“Hey, it’s okay. I’ll go tell them. Do you want to go home?”  Home? But it’s not really his home, is it? And he doesn’t want to be there in a home he does not own all alone. “Okay,” Makoto says when he says no. “Do you want one of us to stay here with you?” he asks, because even if Seijuurou wanted to go back out there, which he doesn’t, no one was going to let him. They’re quite overprotective like that, and he secretly loves every second of it.

“I don’t want to keep you guys from your job.”

“It’s not a problem, we would be glad too,” Makoto says and he can see Haru nodding.

He shakes his head no. It would leave him feeling guilty if one of them stayed and he can’t handle those emotions on top of the fear, shame, embarrassment and pain that’s already overwhelming him.

“Hayato’s here,” Haru says. It’s simple and barely a sentence, but for the people who know him well, explains everything.

“Ah, that’s true. So you won’t be completely alone in here. We can’t leave him in the locker room with Nagisa around.”

“Rin either,” Haru adds.

“You’re right. Kisumi would not be happy if Rin taught his little brother a few choice words," Makoto says to Haru and then turns to Seijuurou. "He’s a good kid. He won’t bother you.”

“I don’t mind. I just…” He doesn’t know what he’s going to say, so he just falls silent.

“I’ll go get him,” Makoto says and his hand twitches, reaching forward, only to rethink his decision and fall back onto his lap. Seijuurou thinks it would have been okay if Makoto touched him. “If you need anything, it’s okay to ask. Okay?”

He says yes to make them happy, but he knows he won’t.  

“Do you want a piece of candy?” the kid asks, holding out a huge bag of candy. He can’t believe Nagisa gave the kid that much candy, and that Kisumi let him. “Candy makes me feel better when I’m sad.”

He remembers a time when his sadness could be cured with candy, too. So he takes a piece, not just to humor the kid, but to see if it still works.

It doesn’t. And Hayato is smart enough to notice that. “Are you sad like big brother?” Hayato asks. “Candy doesn’t make him feel better either.”

He doesn’t know how to explain to Hayato why, and he’s not sure it’s his place anyways. He's silent for too long, but that doesn't seem to bother Hayato.

“Sometimes when Mama doesn’t take her pills, she says mean things to big brother that makes him cry. Sometimes she's mean to me too, so big brother brings me here. Was someone mean to you?” the little boy asks.

Kids have a way of simplifying things, but sometimes the simplest way to say something was closer to the truth than when you tried to figure things out for yourself.

“Yes, someone was very mean to me.”

“Do you want a hug? When Mama’s being mean, I always give big brother a hug and he says it makes him feel better." 

Seijuurou can’t help but smile down at the wide earnest violet eyes that are staring at him. “A hug would be nice.”

The kid crawls into his lap and throws his arms around his neck. For a second he’s reminded of his own brother in the days before everything went wrong. He remembers hugging Momo and letting his brother cry into his shoulder after some bullies squashed his stag beetle. He shoves the memory back in its place before he can remember how much his misses Momo and wonder if his brother misses him too.

He hears an adorable little whine from the kid and looks down to find Hayato fast asleep on his chest. He lies down, without disturbing the kid, and tries to fall himself asleep. But he can’t.   

Because Haru’s given a word for what was done to him. Rape. It slithers around his insides like a centipede. While deep down, he’s always known that’s what it was, with Hachiro he just told himself it was part of the job, and before that, well before that he’s still pretending never happened.

Now that he knows, it will not leave him alone. It will not let him rest. It tears through his memories, the word screaming through his mind every time he comes across an old memory where it happened.

Haru said it got better with time. But right now…right now Seijuurou doesn’t believe him.


	6. The Fault is Whose to Take?

Seijuurou wakes to the smell of bacon. He rolls over on the couch and buries his face into the cushions, burrowing into the warmth and comfort before it finally dawns on his half-asleep brain that someone is cooking breakfast in the kitchen. No one ever gets up before him. He jerks awake and stumbles to his feet in the same breath before even his brain can fully awaken. The clock reads 11 a.m.  _Shit,_ he thinks. He slept through his entire class. When he checks his newly acquired phone, he sees two missed calls from Rei and a text.

_Where are you? Is everything ok?_

_Oh yeah,_ he thinks, confirming the time on his phone. He definitely missed class. He texts back _sorry, overslept_ before ambling into the kitchen.

Haru is there and from the looks of it, he’s been cooking for a while. There is practically a buffet laid out on the table. Makoto is sitting at the table, hair still mused from sleep, already digging into the food. Haru acknowledges his presence with a wave of his spatula.

“Morning,” Makoto cheerfully says. “Surprised to see you here.”

“I overslept,” he mumbles and plops down in a chair. “I missed class. I can’t believe I missed class.” Even at the Meat Locker when Hachiro wouldn’t let him go until 4 a.m. the night before classes, and even when things were bad at home and it hurt too much too move, he still somehow always made it to class. He’s never missed before. What would his professor think?

“Hey, you had a rough week. It’s okay to miss one class,” Makoto’s voice is like aloe on a burn.

He takes a deep breath. “Yeah, you’re right.”

“Besides knowing Rei, he probably already copied his notes for you.” 

“True,” he says and when he his phone buzzes a second later, it's a message from Rei saying the exact same thing. Somehow, coming from Makoto, though, it makes him feel better. It makes him feel like everything is going to be all right no matter what happens.

“Eat,” Haru says, as he drops a plate full of bacon on the table. Seijuurou is starting to appreciate Haru's eloquence with words.

“Is today some sort of special day?” he asks. While it is a well-known fact that Haru is an excellent cook, he rarely cooked anything other than fish and this is a bit extravagant. Though he supposes it could be therapeutic as well. It’s not easy admitting to being a victim of sexual assault as Seijuurou is slowly figuring out.

Makoto’s smile is fond as he gazes upon Haru. “It’s our one year anniversary of being reunited.”

“Oh, that’s right. You two were in foster care together, or something, right?” As if he can forget, but playing naïve usually got him information, so why not? And he desperately wants to know more.

“Yeah, until they separated us,” Makoto says with just a hint of bitterness. “I spent a year trying to track Haru down, until one day Rin just bumped into him.”

“It was fate,” Haru says, sharing a look with Makoto.

“Yeah it was.”

Seijuurou shifts uncomfortably, feeling like he is intruding on something intimate. “How, how did you guys get separated, if you don’t mind me asking?” He tries not to shrivel up like a raisin when Haru stares at him and Makoto refuses to.

“It was my fault,” Makoto whispers.

Haru simmers like a pot of soup. “No it wasn’t. It was theirs.”

“Okay, Haru-chan,” Makoto says. Even Seijuurou can tell Makoto doesn’t believe him.

“I’m sorry. I didn’t mean…” Haru’s smoldering looked silences Seijuurou. “I’m sorry.”

Haru’s shoulder’s slump as he places a hand on Makoto’s arm. Something in him settles like dust after a gust of wind. “The woman who fostered us, she had a boyfriend. He hit Makoto, so I hit him. Our social workers separated us after that.”

“That doesn’t sound like it was either of your faults,” Seijuurou quietly says. Makoto just shrugs, but there was something like relief that flashes through his eyes.

“It wasn’t,” Haru insists.

Breakfast is a quiet affair after that, but Seijuurou did not feel bad for asking.

“So,” Makoto begins as they were cleaning up after their meal, “is it okay if we commandeer the couch to watch a movie?”

“You don’t have to ask, this is your house,” Seijuurou says as he hands a cup to Makoto to dry.

“I know, but it is your bed. And I normally wouldn’t ask, but it’s the only tv in the house and Haru really wants to watch this movie he heard about.”

“I’m sorry if I’ve overstayed my welcome,” Seijuurou says, scrubbing the dishes a little harder than necessary. “I can—”

“Don’t be silly,” Makoto assures. “We like having you here. Haru will never admit it, but he doesn’t want you to leave.”

“Well that’s…” Their fingers touch as he hands Makoto a plate. He pauses and bites his lower lip and then turns away, dropping the plate into Makoto’s hands, pulling his own away like he's letting go of glass shards instead of smooth ceramic. “Thank you for being so nice.”

Makoto does not reply and Seijuurou does not turn his gaze away from the sink to see the words written on his face.

***

If there is one thing Seijuurou learned since his first day on the job, it is the crew of the Wet Dream Stip Club rarely spend time apart, choosing to even spend their free day together, which is why he’s so surprised it’s just the three of them as Haru sets the movie up. “Is anyone else coming?” he asks as he plops down on the couch. The couch is not meant to fit three fully grown men, but Haru and Makoto settled down on either side of him anyways. They said the view of the tv from the chair is terrible and while Seijuurou figures they could always just move it, he doesn’t say anything. He kinda likes being the meat in the middle of this sandwich.

“I called everyone, but Nagisa said he and Rei were having an all day sex marathon, which I think means they’re busy with homework, or just too lazy to come. Rin and Sousuke are trailing Gou on her date and I think Aiichirou went with them to actually shop and not spy. At least that’s what I gathered as they kept passing the phone around.  And Kisumi is taking his mother to the doctor’s.” With Makoto being so close, Seijuurou can feel the vibrations as Makoto talks. It sends a shiver up his spine.

“Cold?” Makoto asks, but really how could he be? “I can get you a blanket?”

“No, I’m not cold. It was just one of those random shivers, you know?” _Oh God, please stop talking, you’re embarrassing yourself._ Thankfully, Makoto lets it go. He forcibly suppresses another shiver a few minutes later as Makoto burrows into his side.

“Y-you didn’t tell me this was going to be a horror film,” Makoto stutters as hides his face in Seijuurou’s shoulder. He can feel him clasping hands with Haru somewhere near his butt.

“It’s called Dark Water,” Haru says. Seijuurou guessed from the title this was going to be a scary film, but Makoto can sometimes be just a little bit naïve.

“Don’t remind me,” Makoto whimpers, letting his free hand bunch in the shirt of Seijuurou’s shirt.

“I can turn it off.”

Seijuurou wants to protest because he kind of likes the situation he's in right now, but it isn’t his place and he can’t force Makoto to watch something he doen’t want to.

“It’s really not that scary,” Makoto says and as if to prove his point turns his head towards the movie. Seijuurou can hear what he is really saying though. _I’ve lived through worse._

Haru hears it too, and he probably knows better than anyone what exactly _worse_ entailed.

“Okay.”

Ten minutes later he feels a weight settle on his shoulder.

“Is he asleep?” Makoto asks.

“I think so,” Seijuurou says, trying to steal a glance of the teen draped over his shoulder. Guess this kind of water just wasn't interesting to Haru.

“He got up pretty early to make breakfast. It’s silly to celebrate something like that, isn’t it? I mean, people lose each other all the time, right?” he uncertainly asks.

Seijuurou thinks of his own brother. If by some miracle he got to have Momo back in his life, if his brother even _wants_ back in his life, Seijuurou would want to celebrate too. Not just every year, every day if he could. He wished, at the very least, that he could talk to his brother, explain why he left and maybe learn what Momo really thinks of him.

“It’s not silly,” Seijuurou assures.

He feels Makoto smile into his shoulder, just as the water floods the elevator in the movie and steals the smile away. “It’s not,” Makoto agrees.

The credits roll, but neither is willing to wake Haru and when he falls asleep himself and wakes sometime later with two warm bodies still pressing against him in slumber, he chooses to remain exactly where he is.

***

“I’ve got something for you!” Nagisa exclaims as he bounces into the locker room with Rei on one arm and the other behind his back.

“Here are the notes from Tuesdays lecture,” Rei says, handing him a stack of papers.

“Thank you so much. I still I can’t believe I overslept.”

“It happens to the best of us,” Rei says with a shrug.

“Guess what I got for you,” Nagisa says.

“Um, a million dollars you stole by hacking into a bank,” he jokes.

"Guess again," Nagisa giggles. 

“Hmm, a weapon someone from the future went back in time to gave to you that makes people do whatever you want them too,” he says. He knows full well what is behind Nagisa’s back, but sometimes it's just nice to be silly.

“You sure you don’t want to be a writer instead of a businessman?” Kisumi asks. “Cuz you got some pretty weird ideas there.”

“I don’t know,” he shrugs. “I never thought about it.” He’s had just one purpose in his mind for so long, there isn’t much room for anything else.

“Don’t interrupt,” Nagisa pouts. “Do you give up?” he asks Seijuurou.

“I do. Tell me,” he says, hiding his smile behind a cough.

“It’s the computer I promised you!” He whips the computer out so quickly, he almost hits Seijuurou in the face with it.

“Thank you, Nagisa. I really appreciate all the hard work you put into this for me,” he says, yet again humbled by the generosity of his friends.

“Please I make these all the time, it’s easy and I get all the parts for free from broken computers and from the junkyard,” he shrugs like it was no big deal, for Nagisa, it probably isn’t.

Someone’s underwear comes flying through the air and hits Nagisa square in the face. “It’s easy for you,” Rin laughs. It takes Nagisa about two seconds to strip naked, take his own dirty underwear and then chase after Rin with it. Seijuurou shakes his head as everyone laughs at the pair, everyone, but Sousuke that is. Sousuke seemed kind of distant lately, ever since the whole incident over the weekend where the customer had… Seijuurou can’t even finish the thought. He isn’t sure what is causing Sousuke’s mood, but no one else acts like it is anything out of the ordinary, so he doesn’t say anything about it.

An ear shattering shriek from Rin tears his gaze away from the quiet security guard.  Nagisa has jumped on Rin's back and wrapped his arms around him like an octopus as he rubs his dirty underwear in Rin’s face. It is hilarious.

“Okay, I think he learned his lesson,” Rei says as he peels Nagisa off Rin’s back.

“Friggin monkey,” Rin grumbles, rubbing his face clean with Nagisa’s shirt that he snatched from the ground. Nagisa sticks his tongue out at him, then he bounds from Rei’s arms and over towards Seijuurou.

“Anyways,” Nagisa says, lowering his voice so the others can’t hear. “About that favor.”

“You’re not going to rub your underwear in my face, are you?” he interrupts.

“No,” Nagisa says and sticks his tongue out again. “I want you to keep an eye out for Makoto.”

“What?”

“You live with him, right? So you’re with him all the time and Kisumi told me about how scary you were when you threw that guy out last week. Please just, make sure nothing happens to him at home.”

“Okay,” he skeptically says. What could possibly happen to Makoto outside of the work that couldn’t happen to the rest of them at any time, especially Kisumi because he lived in the roughest part of town?

As if reading the skepticism on his face, Nagisa says, “Taheshi.” Ah. The mysterious boyfriend that Seijuurou has never met, but is apparently an asshole currently in rehab for the third time according to Aiichirou. Haru had to have a reason for turning over all of Taheshi’s photos in the house, but Seijuurou doesn’t know what Taheshi's done to make everyone hate him, except maybe being a drug addict.

He places his hands on Nagisa’s shoulders. “As long as I am there, I will look out for him. You don’t have to worry.”

“That’s worth more than any computer.”

Nagisa lunges at him, wrapping his arms around Seijuurou's waist and hugging him tightly.

“You’re still naked, aren’t you?”

“Yup.

“You’re incorrigible.”

“Why thank you,” Nagisa says with a wink, and saunters towards his locker. When Seijuurou turns around to grab his bag, Ai is standing there, hands wringing, as he stares at the floor.

“I’m sorry,” Ai says.

“For what?”  Seijuurou asks. The kid can’t harm a bug, literally. When he finds a bug somewhere in the club, he captures it in one of the cups from the bar and lets the thing go outside. He even captured a bee in a bucket once and set it free. He’s pretty sure Aiichirou can’t have done anything worth apologizing over.

“I just…I just am, okay?” he snaps, wiping furiously at the tears in his eyes.

“Hey, Aiichirou. It’s gonna be okay. Whatever it is, I’m sure it wasn’t your fault.

His words do not have the intended results. Aiichirou starts crying harder and runs for the bathroom. He makes to follow, but Rin stops him. “I didn’t do anything, I swear.”

“I know,” Rin says. “I’ll go talk to him.”

Seijuurou is already out on the floor when Aiichirou and Rin finally emerge from the locker room and into the club. Aiichirou won’t look him in the eye. Rin shakes his head because he doesn’t know why.

***

He’s shoving his new computer into his bag after the club closes when Nagisa shouts, “I finally get why you look so familiar!”Seijuurou’s frantically shaking his head ‘no.’ _Please be wrong, please be wrong, please be wrong._ “You’re a Mikoshiba. You’re whole family was on the cover of Computer Weekly once.”

The Mikoshibas, the owners of the one of the biggest computer companies in the world. A family of tradition, appearances, and reputation, but completely devoid of love. He thinks his brother might have loved him, but now that's more hope than anything else. His father certainly never did. If he did, he wouldn’t have… He doesn’t like to be reminded where he came from. It’s still a painful rusty screw twisting in his gut.

“You mean, _the_ Mikoshibas? The most powerful family in this city?” Kisumi’s eyes are wide as he gazes upon Seijuurou like he just descended from the heavens. Aiichirou is avoiding his gaze and staring very hard at his locker door. Various degrees of shock display on everyone else’s faces, even Haru.

Sousuke shakes himself out the shock first. “He can’t help who his parents are.”

“Yeah,” Rin adds, “and it’s not like he’s the only rich kid here trying to get back at their parents.” Aiichirou tenses at the comment, as it’s clearly aimed towards him. Sometimes Rin just can’t help but put his foot in his mouth. He’ll have to yell at him later, on Ai’s behalf because Ai won’t, when he isn’t feeling so panicked.

“It’s not like that,” immediately sprouts from his mouth. “He doesn’t know. He _can’t_ know.”

Makoto touches his shoulder. Seijuurou didn't even see him walk in. He makes sure Seijuurou’s eyes are on him before he takes a deep breath. It’s clearly a reminder to Seijuurou to take a deep breath himself and calm down. He doesn’t want to embarrass Seijuurou by saying it out loud in front of all their friends.

He nods his head in thanks. “Mikoshiba-san,” he starts because that was the way his father made Seijuurou address him. He said Seijuurou wasn’t worthy of calling him father. “My _father_ is a terrible human being. But he’s also a very powerful man. If he knew I was here, he would probably get his attorneys to shut this place down by any means necessary because I shamed the family by being here and he couldn’t let it stand. I don’t know what he would try and do to me, but I can’t go back. I’m not trying to get back at him, but he can’t know I’m here. I don’t want him to know I’m here.”

Aiichirou looks like he’s trying to disappear into his locker and Seijuurou wonders just  how much he really knows about what happened. Back in the day, he had been rather close to Momo. It’s possible Momo told him everything he knew, which admittedly isn’t very much. Haru and Makoto are the only two attempting to hide their shock.

“No one’s going to tell him you’re here,” Makoto assures.

“If you never want to see your father, that’s your business, not ours,” Haru quietly adds.  

“Thank you,” he whispers and turns his back on the room to face his locker. This is just a little bit too much for him right now, too many feelings of pain and horror and anguish, too many overwhelming feelings of love and care from the people in the room, too many secrets told. He never wanted to tell his new family where he came from. He doesn’t want to remember himself. “I don’t want anything to do with him. So please…”

_Please don’t tell anyone who I really am…_

***

Sousuke approached him as everyone was filling out, after Nagisa spilled one of his secrets to everyone. He walked, with purposed and intent, straight towards him. Seijuurou waved, and then Souske stopped. He made to turn around, then shook his head and finally stepped forward.

“I’m sorry,” Sousuke said.

“Not you too,” he tried to joke, but the seriousness on Sousuke’s face killed the joke before it could take flight. “For uh, what?”

“I should have stopped that guy sooner,” he said, and Seijuurou didn’t need any reminder to know who said guy was. “I knew that he was making you uncomfortable and I thought if you wanted him to leave, you would have told him so or pushed him away, but then I realized you _couldn’t_ push him away and I saw what his hand was doing and I’m sorry. I should have intervened right away. I don’t know what I was thinking.”

Seijuurou doesn’t know what to say to that. He’s starting to realize that the figure at the end of the hallway who he thought was Hachiro at the time, was really Sousuke. Does he say it’s okay, because he’s not sure it is. Does he say it’s not your fault, because he’s not sure that’s true either. But it’s not like he wanted Seijuurou to be hurt, it’s not like he intended for Seijuurou to freak out like that.

“Everyone makes mistakes,” he settled for. It didn’t quite absolve Sousuke for his decision, but it could free him from his guilt.

“If it makes any difference, it’s not a mistake I will make twice.”

“It does,” he assured. But now he’s lying awake, at 5 a.m., playing over and over in his head everything that’s happened since he joined the Wet Dream family and he doesn’t know how to make any sense of it. Pounding on the door disturbs him.

He slips off the couch and ambles to the door, but hesitates. Who could possibly be knocking at this time of day?

“Makoto, open up,” a voice demands.

Against his better judgement, Seijuurou does just that.

“Who the Hell are you?” they both say at the same time. Then a fist is flying for his face.   


	7. The New Pollution

“Who the Hell are you?” they both ask as the same time. Then a fist is flying for his face.

**

Seijuurou throws himself backwards to avoid being hit, but the punch is clumsy and uncoordinated and comes nowhere near touching him.

“What the Hell, dude?” he stresses, stumbling back further into the room as the guy at the door lets himself in.

The intruder is shaking, hands balled into fists, sweat dripping down his face. “What are you doing in my house?”

“ _Your_ house?” he questions, because what the Hell is going on here?

Haru emerges from the hallway, a silent shadow sliding across a sliver of moonlight. “It is not your house,” Haru hisses.

“I live here, don’t I?” the intruder sneers and tries to stick his tongue out, at least  that’s what Seijuurou thinks that aborted movement of his tongue was. Either that or some sort of spasm.

“And so does Seijuurou,” and oh how that makes his heart beat wildly in his chest, but now is not the time to feel giddy, “Taheshi,” Haru spits as if the name hurts to say.

So this was the infamous boyfriend. He can see why Makoto fell for him. He’s handsome, in the cocky, ensured way, with dark brown hair just a shade darker than Makoto's and clothes that scream expensive. Seijuurou could have thought him attractive, if not for the sneer permanently plastered to his face, the tremors in his limbs, and the track marks in his arms. He’s seen plenty of those before. They were fairly common among the prostitutes at his last job, Hachiro pretty much demanded it.

“Such a prude as always, Haru. Still not getting any?”

Seijuurou is sure that was meant to be an insult, but Haru doesn’t even respond, not even a twitch of an eye.

“Whatever,” the intruder dismisses Haru with a flick of his wrist. “Why are you here?” he asks, trying to jab his forefinger into Seijuurou’s chest and falling a few inches short. 

“I already told you. He lives here,” Haru angrily spits and never before had Seijuurou seen this much emotion splayed across his face, let alone seen this much rage.

“It’s bad enough you live here.” Taheshi slurs, gesturing wilding at Haru with his arms. “Now this fucker, too? No way,” he says and pulls a knife from his pocket. Seijuurou isnot impressed. He lived on the streets for a year, and lived in absolute Hell both before and after that. With his unsteady limbs and uncoordinated movements, this thing in front of him is hardly a threat. “Get out.”

Seijuurou crosses his arms and refused to budge.

“What are you stupid, get out?”

Would it be wrong to start laughing now? Because that’s kind of how he feels.

“That is not for you to decided,” Haru comes to his defense.

“We’ll see,” Taheshi says with a cocky, nasty sneer that Seijuurou wants to wipe from that face with his fist. “Makoto! Hey, Makoto!”

Haru balls his hands into fists, as the door down the hall clicks open and Makoto stumbles into the room, rubbing sleep from his eyes.

“What’s is going on? Is there an emergency? What’s…Oh,” he says as his bleary eyes settle on Taheshi. Makoto takes an unconscious step back as Seijuurou moves to step in front of him, Haru mirroring his movements.

“What is this piece of shit doing here? Get rid of him.”

“He’s not,” Makoto protests and then shrinks in on himself. “This is Seijuurou, my newest employee. He lives here and I’m not kicking him out,” he says the last part so softly, it was barely heard above the crash of the waves outside.

But Taheshi still hears it. “Oh, is that how this is going to be?” he says and takes a threatening step forward, Makoto flinching away from the movement.

“I don’t think so,” Seijuurou says, at the same time Haru growls, “Back off.”

“Taheshi,” Makoto quietly says, “you promised to finish rehab this time. You still have a month left.”

“Shut up,” Taheshi simmers, face creasing with anger before a deceitful sheen stretches across his furious expression leaving behind the look of a broken man. “I had to break out of there. I was losing my mind. I missed you and it’s not like you ever come visit me.”

 _What a manipulative little bastard,_ Seijuurou thinks and glances back in time to catch the guilty expression cast a shadow across Makoto’s face.

“You can stay the night,” Makoto mumbles, but it’s painfully obvious Makoto does not mean it. Seijuurou stamps down the emotions that flare to life like punch in the face, because staying in a relationship for no other reason than because you were too scared to leave? Yeah, that hits a little too close to home.

“But you are going back as soon as we wake up,” Haru insists, grabbing Makoto by the wrist and pulling him away. Seijuurou feels a tug on his own arm and looks down to see Haru has his wrist wrapped firmly in his grasp. “You can have the couch,” he tosses over his shoulder to Taheshi, before steering the three of them into Makoto’s room. “We stay here tonight.”   

Nobody argues as they lie down, huddled close on a bed not made for three fully grown men. Seijuurou finds himself in the middle again with two warm bodies curled into him. He would have thought it impossible to sleep, given the circumstances, but Makoto falls asleep within minutes, head heavy on his chest. Haru’s warm, even breaths are puffing across his neck, but the sweet caress of sleep does not come so quickly for Seijuurou.

**

When he wakes up, Haru’s back is to him, and Makoto is gone. He slips from the bed without waking its sole occupant and silently wanders towards the kitchen.  Soft voices stop him. He peers around the corner to see Taheshi and Makoto standing before the stove. Not looking any less strung out then he did earlier, Taheshi vibrates with nervous energy. He has one hand cupping Makoto’s face and the other wrapped around his wrist. It does not look like the embrace of a lover.

“You know I love you, right?” Taheshi’s rough voice carries to the hallway. He sees Makoto nod, but neither of them are convinced.

“It’s just,” Makoto begins, eyes firmly glued to the ground, “you promised you would finish this time. You promised to get clean.”

Venom drips poisonously from Taheshi’s lips, “I’m sober.” Makoto tugs his wrist towards him, a move he did not intend to make if the accompanying flinch was anything to go by. The asshole's free hand balls into a fist, muscles pulled taught like maybe that flinch isn’t unwarranted.

Seijuurou clambers into the kitchen noisily and announces his presence with a growl of ‘good morning.’

Taheshi reluctantly pulls away as Seijuurou deliberately places himself between him and Makoto. He grabs a cup of tea, steering Makoto towards the table and pushing him in the chair furthest away from his so-called boyfriend. “So Taheshi,” he says while quietly sipping his tea, “when do you have to be back at the facility? I’ve got errands to run in town. I’ll accompany you.”

“Makoto,” Taheshi whines. “I want to stay here with you.”

Makoto opens his mouth to reply, but a sleepy Haru with a scowl on his face says, “Save it. You can either finish rehab, or don’t, but you are leaving today.”

“Haru,” Makoto weakly protests.

“Makoto, no,” Haru snaps. Makoto doesn’t lift his eyes from the table after that.

Something sinister settles on the tip Taheshi’s tongue, “Are you going to let him talk to me like that? Makoto,” he spits the name so sharply it could cut through glass.

Hunched over and barely held together with glue, Makoto is unable to respond.

“Fine,” Taheshi says, pushing Haru out of his way as he storms from the kitchen. “I _will_ be back.”

The door slams shut behind him.

**

It takes Haru nearly an hour to coax Makoto out of whatever mind space he’d fled to. “It’s my fault,” Makoto is like a scratched CD, repeating the phrase over and over until Haru settles him on his bed and he curls up and falls silent. He’s not sleeping, but Seijuurou wouldn’t call him conscious either.  

When he finds himself next to Haru on the couch, close enough to draw comfort, he realizes he’s not surprised at anything that’s happened.

“He blames himself for Taheshi getting hooked on drugs,” Haru says, his gaze fixed firmly out the window. “He hired the stripper that introduced the drugs to Taheshi. It’s stupid, though. Not like Taheshi didn’t have a say.”

Seijuurou stares at the only picture not hidden by Haru. The silver of the frame sparkles in the sunlight and it almost hides the dent in the corner and the dark grey scratches. The light drowns out some of the features of the picture, but he can still see the bruises and the haunted look in both of their eyes.

“He was always an easy target,” Haru continues, when Seijuurou can’t find anything comforting to say. Haru's staring at the picture too. "In foster care, the woman, she said some pretty horrible things, to the both of us. Told us we were stupid, blamed everything that happened on us, that kind of stuff. They didn’t bother me, I barely paid attention to her, but Makoto...” he trails off shaking his head, before taking a deep breath and continuing. “Every day she would tell Makoto that he was useless and pathetic and he would apologize and say he would try harder. It really bothered him, and he believed everything she said about him. She didn’t beat him often, but when she did, even if it was my fault he got hurt, Makoto would apologize. He always said it wasn’t my fault, but I think he thought it was his. Even if he did nothing wrong, he just thought if he could try harder…”

“It doesn’t work like that,” Seijuurou says, because that’s exactly what he thought for years. Realizing it doesn’t work like that was kind of like drowning, suffocating slowly until it all went dark.

“I know that, Makoto’s a people pleaser, though. His happiness depends on whether or not the people around him are happy and he’s an easy target to assholes that want to hurt him. We’ve tried, we’ve all tried to change him, to build up his confidence, to get him away from Taheshi, but nothing works.”

“Maybe it’s not about building up his confidence,” Seijuurou says. When it came time for him to leave his abusive relationship, it wasn’t about confidence, it wasn’t about believing he deserved better. It was something much more primal than that, the basic instinct to survive. “I’ve might have an idea.”

“Really?”

“But I don’t think you’re gonna like it.”  

Haru narrows his eyes, but its determination he reads in the expression, because whatever Seijuurou has planned has to be better than the alternative. And at this point, they're too desperate not to try. 

**Author's Note:**

> This fic was inspired by a pic I found on pinterest of Seijuurou busting a move on a stripper pole, however I was unable to find the original location of the picture, or the artist.
> 
> Sorry for any mistakes, I do reread these things multiple times, but I always miss things. I'll try harder next chapter and please feel free to point any out.


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